Stranger than fiction
by cametobuyplums
Summary: He's a player both on and off the field, and she's a budding journalist trying to make her own name for herself. He's never been turned down before, and she's the first one to reject him. Yet all they want to do is rip each other's clothes off. That's how all the good stories start, surely?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: It's a love story, baby just say yes**

"Shit! Motherfucker! Fuck! Shit!"

Lola swore profusely, slamming her hand down hard on the steering wheel of her car. The horn reverberated through the highway, and the man in the truck just next to her gave her an odd, exasperated look. She sighed and switched the engine off. This was not how her Monday morning was meant to pan out.

* * *

" _Stark! In my office! Now!" yelled Clint Barton, motioning with his finger as he marched past._

 _Lola groaned and looked at her watch; it was already four thirty and she didn't want to be here much longer, especially on a Friday night._

 _"Now, Stark!" came his voice again, and Lola begrudgingly stood up as Natasha nudged her._

" _He used to be so relaxed. Can't you sleep with him again, Nat?"_

" _You know I don't do repeats, sweetie. Besides, he's married now."_

" _Take one for the team." Giggled Lola, hurrying into Clint's office._

 _He gestured at her to sit down without looking up from his laptop. Her foot tapping an unknown rhythm, she glanced around the cramped little office._

 _Various awards and certificates sat in once gleaming frames, hooked permanently to the walls. The furniture was ageing, the dark brown wood contrasting deeply with the rather modern stories that were actually written at them. An overflowing recycle bin sat in the corner, bits of scrunched up paper littered around it. And then there was the overwhelming scent of cheap whiskey, cologne and sweat. All marks of a great newspaper editor, no doubt._

" _I'm sending you to the Red Bulls on Monday morning." Said Clint dully. "You're interviewing James Barnes."_

 _He looked at Lola with his usual serious expression and she blinked back._

 _"James Barnes? As in the soccer player?" she asked, unsure if she heard him right or not._

" _Do you know any other James Barnes?"_

" _No, but I'm confused. Isn't this something Vis would want to do?"_

 _Vis (or at least that's what everyone called him, Lola wasn't even sure anyone knew his real name anymore) headed the sports section of the paper. He had a certain vision for sports, and that was where the nickname came from. He had an extensive knowledge of every sport known to mankind, which no doubt aided his ability to predict scores with ease. He would watch football games and simply know what moves each player was about to make. It was something he prided himself on, so much so, that when Natasha once joked that he should take over Horoscopes from Jane, he gave her such a look that Natasha swore she could have seen lasers shoot from his eyes._

" _He's the greatest mind when it comes to sports, but even he couldn't foresee that darn little Chihuahua that tripped him up. He's got a broken ankle, no way can he do it." Scoffed Clint, running a hand through his short hair. "You're my best shot."_

" _But, I write about lifestyle and culture. And you're sending me to do an interview for the sports pages?"_

" _You wanted bigger pieces didn't you? Here's your chance."_

" _I don't know a thing about soccer! It's not even that popular here, is it?"_

" _Come on, Stark. You say you want to be a writer, right? You've got the weekend, do your research! Your old man's a billionaire, take the jet out to London and watch a game for all I care! You got this!"_

" _Okay, I've got this." Said Lola firmly, standing up with determination. "I'm going to interview James Barnes, and write a killer piece. I've got this."_

" _Stark." Said Clint warningly, as she stepped out the office. "Don't let me down."_

" _I've got this" became Lola's mantra, as she hopped on the subway and made her way home. She was going to need all the help she could get, and who better to ask than a man? Her man, in fact. And that was exactly who she texted, hoping he wouldn't be too disappointed giving up a night out at a new club in town to spend a weekend on the couch watching soccer with her._

 _They had fallen into a bit of a rut after moving in together. It was all too easy to put pajamas on after a long day of work instead of lingerie and high heels. Takeaways just seemed more appealing than going out for dinner. A night out together was meant to bring that spark back; hot, sweaty dancing and tequila shots would help spice things up in the bedroom too, no?_

 _Lola rung Pietro, as she unlocked the front door, stopping in the doorway when she heard it ring. His phone was lying on the couch, next to… a pair of electric blue platform heels? Those definitely weren't hers. A guttural moan suddenly echoed through the small apartment; feminine and unfamiliar. Her heart racing, she approached the bedroom. She didn't know why she had to open the door, she knew what was happening inside. But, she supposed she had to see it with her own eyes._

 _Pietro standing by the bed, a platinum blonde bimbo with bowling balls on her chest and smudged lipstick bent over it. They didn't seem to notice her at first, and Lola was surprisingly calm, as she crossed her arms and cleared her throat._

" _Lola!" cried Pietro, accidentally dropping the blonde, who fell off the bed with a shriek. "You are home! I thought you were going out with Natasha?"_

" _No, that was next week." Said Lola, her voice quiet with danger as she kicked a lurid neon thong aside with disgust. "Which you would know, if you had been paying attention. I guess you were too busy thinking about little miss fake tits over here."_

" _Hey, I'm all natural!"_

" _Isn't that what all the hookers say?"_

" _Why, you little- "_

" _Lola, please!" interjected Pietro, stepping towards her. "Baby, it is not what it looks like, I promise."_

" _It's not? You mean you just tripped and fell dick first into her? Well, actually, there's probably been enough men in there to make it an easy job…"_

" _You are such a- "_

" _Lola, please, let me put my clothes on, and I will explain everything, okay, baby?"_

" _Let me save you the trouble. Get out."_

" _W-what?"_

" _Get. Out. Now."_

* * *

The memory of it all came flooding back to Lola now, as the traffic eventually lurched forward and she found herself en route once again. She forced herself to push it out of her mind; she was already late; she didn't need a grey cloud hanging over her during this interview, too.

"Come on, Pierce! You know I hate these things."

"Well, soldier, you're just going to have to put up with it."

"That's what you always say. Then they dig about my personal life anyway."

"This will be different, it's for The Daily Marvel. A reputable newspaper. The sports guy's no nonsense. I doubt he would give a damn if you told him you attend gay sex parties and pay a drag queen to shove a dildo up your ass while you eat sushi off a man's balls."

"Well, when you put it like that... Fine. Fine. I'll do it."

"Good. And try to smile at least once, okay, soldier?"

Bucky begrudgingly took a seat in the conference room and pulled out his phone. This Vis guy, whoever he was, was ten minutes late. So much for a reputable newspaper. Scrolling through his texts boredly, he jumped when the door slammed open.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Mr. Barnes! I didn't anticipate so much traffic this morning! I hope you haven't been waiting too long. I am so sorry." Said a distinctly feminine voice that couldn't have belonged to Vis.

His eyes took in everything, from her glossy brown hair that matched her chocolate brown eyes to the apologetic smile on her soft-looking lips. She was wearing a neatly tailored black suit, the pants like a second skin on her legs and the blazer was unbuttoned to reveal a white V-neck t-shirt. His eyes were drawn there briefly, until he noticed the pointed stilettos she was towering in.

" _Ahem_." Lola cleared her throat noisily and Bucky snapped his face up, his eyes meeting hers.

The tables turned as she found herself ogling him just as he had ogled her. There was no denying how handsome he was; from his famously powerful thighs- he was a soccer player after all- to the way his t-shirt seemed to cling snugly to his chest and arms. His chiseled cheekbones and sharp jawline seemed to have been carved by Greek gods themselves, while his dark hair lay softly over them. He had the cheekiest smile that matched the sparkle of his blue eyes perfectly, and he winked at her now.

"See something you like, doll?" he smirked, his smooth voice dripping with charm and sex. Lola raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Can't say I do. Let's hope the readers disagree. Shall we, Mr. Barnes?"

"A woman who knows what she wants." He smirked again, but she simply sat down and pulled out a notebook and recording device.

"Whenever you're ready."

"For you, doll, always."

"Tell me, Mr. Barnes, how do you manage on the soccer field when you can't use all this charm?" she asked, pressing the little record button.

"Charm's not my only skill, I'm real good at everything I do. Soccer included." He replied smoothly, taking the seat next to her and leaving his legs open invitingly. Lola ignored this, making him smirk again.

"If you're so good, then why not an English or Spanish team? You started off at CSKA Moscow, so why not continue there? Soccer is infinitely more popular in Europe."

"New York's my home." He said simply. "I owe everything to CSKA; they changed my life. And I wanted to bring that to the people here. You're right, soccer isn't as popular here, but, look at how much it's changed lives for top players in South America and Europe. It's kept kids off the streets, given them a chance at life. Can't be a coincidence, right?"

"So you see yourself as a hero? A role model for the new generation."

"I'm flattered you see me that way. Can't say I'm complaining."

"Oh, I don't imagine you would. A good track record on the pitch, last season's top scorer, an idol for the fans and a favourite with the ladies- "

"Includin' you? Miss- sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. As I was saying- "

"Nope. I'm not answerin' anymore questions until you tell me your name." he said simply, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. He smiled patiently at Lola until she rolled her eyes.

"Lola. My name's Lola."

"Lola." He repeated, and she tried to fight the blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Yes. Can we get back to the interview now?"

"How 'bout tonight instead? Over drinks. Maybe I'll get to interview you too." He flashed that trademark smile again, and she almost melted into a puddle.

A few martinis to lose her inhibitions with this gorgeous man seemed like a heavenly way to spend a night, and no doubt Natasha would be in full support of this, but, she stopped herself. How many times had she seen his picture plastered across the front of a magazine, leaving a fancy do with a different woman each time? A model one night, an actress another. And then there was that Dottie- his girlfriend, no doubt. The poor girl. No, she didn't want to be one of those. So she forced a smile and poised her pen again.

"No, thank you, Mr. Barnes. I'd rather finish this now, I have work to get to and you have training."

"If you insist, doll. What else you got for me?"

Lola continued with the list of questions she had formulated, and Bucky answered each one with ease. Soccer was his sphere, and it was very obvious to him that it certainly wasn't hers. She rarely challenged him when he spoke about moments from last season, suggesting she hadn't watched it, on television or live. But, if she hadn't been to any games, where did he recognize her from? Had he slept with her already? No, no he would remember a pretty face like that, those lips wrapped around him, her screaming his name in ecstasy…

"If you could change one thing about last season, what would it be?" she asked suddenly, catching him off guard.

He retreated from his dirty thoughts and looked at her thoughtfully.

"That we finished second." He grinned, with somewhat of a cringe. "'S a shame, 'cause we worked hard all season, and that it came to down one point at the end of it all. But, I guess anyone'd say that, right?"

"Some might say how many shots they hit on target, or how many passes they completed. Something to make themselves look better. But you didn't." she replied slowly, and he furrowed his brows.

Was that surprise in her voice? Or irritation?

"Soccer is a team sport. One player isn't bigger than the team."

"Yet out of all the players, you seem to be the one that receives the most attention. Sponsorship deals, the face of marketing campaigns, not to mention the ladies."

"I'm just a lucky guy." He smiled.

"And on that note, I think we're ready to wrap up. Good luck for the new season- both you and the team."

Lola ended her little recording and stood up, putting her belongings back into her bag.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Barnes."

"I got a name too, doll." He chuckled. "You can call me by it tonight over those drinks."

"I don't think so."

"You're off record now, you can say yes."

"Look, Mr. Barnes- "

"Call me Bucky."

" _Mr. Barnes_. I'm not going out for drinks with you."

"How 'bout dinner then?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you? I'm not interested in _you_."

"You're playin' hard to get. Right?" he asked uncertainly, and Lola laughed bitterly.

"God, are you _that_ far up your own ass?"

"Excuse me?"

"It must be a nice little world you live in, that you just assume every girl is desperate to go out with you? Even though you have a girlfriend, Dottie, who you're just stringing along. Every magazine says you don't do commitment."

"Wow, that's news to me, doll. Next time I need to know something 'bout my own life I'll just pick up a tabloid. Apparently they know me better than I do."

"Like you don't know about your reputation? It's not as if you do anything to hide it."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to."

"Neither do I. And that includes not doing you!" She spat furiously, throwing her bag over her shoulder and storming out the conference room.

"How'd it go?" asked Pierce, walking into the conference room. Bucky still stood there, raging quietly.

"Who was she?" he asked, and Pierce looked at him with confusion.

"She? I thought you just got interviewed by Vis?"

"No, some girl."

"You sure she was from Daily Marvel?"

"She never said."

"Geez, soldier. A pretty face and a firm ass and you lose your mind, huh?"

"Just find out who she was."

"I'll try. Now get to training. And don't forget that party at Stark Tower tonight. Don't bring a date, we need to set a good impression if we're getting any sponsorship from them."

"Lucky she turned me down then, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Good evening, folks! How are you all? Wow, it has been such a long time since I posted something! I do apologise for that- my life has just been one hell of a crazy rollercoaster ride at the moment! I've been trying to squeeze in as much writing time as I can, but it's not always possible, so I hope you don't mind being so patient! Anyway, thank you to the lovely people who posted a review and those of you who messaged me about this new story- it's so lovely hearing what you guys have to say. As always, please do let me know what you think of this chapter too. I've tried to keep it nice and long, to make up for the long wait. I'll be honest and say this one is gonna be a sloooow burner, but I have so many ideas up my sleeve and things will definitely start picking up! I hope you enjoy reading, and I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter!**

* * *

 **Warnings** : **alcohol, language**

 **Chapter 2: The party don't start 'til I walk in***

Lola was fuming as she slammed her car door shut; driving away from the Red Bull Arena without so much as a second glance. The tabloids clearly didn't do justice to just how big of an _ass_ he was. How he could he just go around assuming every woman wanted to be wined and dined by him? Sure, he was an attractive man- a very attractive man, just the thought of those searing blue eyes- no, no she wasn't going to think about him. Or that charming smile of his that made her knees weak. Or his long locks that were just begging to be tugged in the throes of passion. _So much for not thinking about him._

She was trying so desperately to think of anything but James Barnes that when she finally reached her apartment, he was all she could think about. He seemed to follow her through the small space, the musky smell of his cologne wafting through the living room. She could still feel his blue eyes piercing into her as she dropped her bag with a small thud and headed straight to the fridge for that bottle of wine she'd opened last night to help nurse her to sleep.

"I have already poured you a glass." Said a voice, and Lola screamed. Her head shot up, smacking straight into the fridge and she yelped, rubbing her now sore skull as Pietro pushed a glass towards her apologetically. She eyed it cautiously. "I haven't poisoned it you know." Chuckled Pietro, taking a sip from his own glass of wine. She ignored him and crossed her arms instead. "What are you doing here?"  
"Can't a man surprise his girlfriend after she's had a long day at work?"  
"Not when she's not his girlfriend." She replied nonchalantly, sipping at the glass of wine.  
"You are very funny. This is why I love you."  
"If you loved me, Pietro, you wouldn't have been dick-deep in the STD ocean last night."  
"Come now, it was just a mistake."  
"No, a mistake is listening to your bullshit. Get out of here."  
"Last time I checked it was my name on the lease."

"You're right." Said Lola thoughtfully. She put down her glass and strode into the bedroom, Pietro following her closely. Ignoring him, she quickly but calmly began piling her clothes into a suitcase, throwing shoes and handbags on top. "What are you doing?"  
"You were right; it's your name on the lease. You can keep the apartment- I'm moving out."  
"Lola, baby, let's not be too fast with this decision, okay?"  
"Take your own advice next time and think things through before you stick your dick somewhere it shouldn't be."  
"But you know that was just a mistake!"  
"A mistake? A mistake is that time we went on Space Mountain after drinking a super-size slushie. A mistake is that time I tried to pierce your ear and it got infected. You cheating on me is not just a mistake!" she screamed, slamming the suitcase shut and sitting on it as she struggled to zip it up.

"Yes, well, if you want to put it like that then this is your fault too." Muttered Pietro and Lola slid off the suitcase. She put her hands on her hips, positive that there was steam blasting from her ears. " _My_ fault?! How is it _my_ fault?"  
"Well, it's because of you I had to look somewhere else for satisfaction." He replied, his anger rising like a hot air balloon. Tears stung Lola's eyes, as she felt red anger creep up her neck and face. She couldn't help the hot tears that slipped down her cheeks, but Pietro stared back, completely unperturbed. "You think because you are Lola Stark you can do whatever you want. Well, I got bored of you. You are not adventurous- especially not in the bedroom- and you do not make an effort. Everything is always the same. It is embarrassing when all my friends brag about what they do with their girlfriends. I have the richest one of them all and all we seem to do is sit and watch movies."  
"You know; I don't have to listen to your bullshit." She screamed back, dragging her suitcase out the bedroom and towards the front door. He only happily opened the door for her.

"The truth hurts." Pietro said, and Lola straightened her back, standing tall like a queen. Wiping her tears away furiously, she mustered a smile.  
"For once, you might just be right, Pietro. So let me enlighten you. You're going to miss me. Laugh all you want, but you're going to regret letting my ass go when you see it in a little black dress at that club you're promoting on Friday night."

And with that, she hauled herself and her suitcase away. Stepping outside into the crisp New York City air was like taking her first breath of life. There was a sense of freedom that made her smile, and dropped her suitcase to the sidewalk as she raised her arms in celebration, screaming happily. The world seemed a much better place, until she actually sat behind the wheel of her car and realized she had nowhere to live. She couldn't go to her dad; she had been desperately trying to prove to him that she didn't need his money and that she wanted to make it on her own without the help of the family name. Which meant no hotel suites and definitely no splurging on that gorgeous Manhattan apartment she had seen online. There was only one option.

* * *

Natasha opened her door and leant on it, raising an eyebrow at her best friend. Lola held up her hands and smiled widely. "Still need a roommate?" she asked cheekily, and Natasha narrowed her eyes before stepping aside.  
"I thought you were Pietro's roommate."  
"Well, Pietro decided one roommate wasn't enough."  
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
"I'm saying exactly what you think I'm saying. And no, I don't want to cry over a tub of Ben & Jerry's because I have a party to get ready for." She replied quickly, her voice almost faltering as she pulled out a dress and headed to the bathroom. Natasha's brows furrowed in concern and she silently followed her friend, sitting on the bathtub as Lola wriggled out of her clothes.

"He knows he's giving up that ass, right?" asked Natasha, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Lola adjusted her bra and looked at Natasha with thunder etched across her face. "He prefers a silicone one and fake tits to match."  
"You're shitting me, right?" gawked Natasha. The pair ended up discussing Pietro for what seemed like hours; Lola doing her best not to break down in yet another set of tears as she set about attempting winged eyeliner. She concluded that while it was awful that her two-year long relationship had ended up down the drain; what she was really upset about was the way in which it had ended and the hurtful things her had said to her. She had loved him… once upon a time. And that was probably why she has stayed with him for those two years. He felt safe and comfortable, like a teddy bear to a child. Natasha suggested that had been her downfall- she had always wanted a life of excitement and adventure, and Pietro just didn't ignite any passion in her. Nevertheless, Pietro should have had the decency to be honest about their doomed future, rather than invite strays into his bed.

Loud ringing startled the two best friends out of their conversation, and Lola scrambled to retrieve her phone. "Hello."  
"Well, hello to my elusive daughter. Look, I know you hate the spotlight, but would it kill you to check in with your old man every once in a while?"  
"I would, if he wasn't jetting off around the world at every chance he got."  
"Ooh, you definitely inherited the Stark sass. Good one, kid."  
"I have you to thank for that. So, to what do I owe this phone call, daddy? Are you making sure I'm attending the party you're throwing tonight?"  
"A know it all. Yup, you are definitely my spawn. I'm so proud."  
"I'll see you later, daddy."  
"Bye, kid. And please, don't bring that weirdo you call your boyfriend with you. We need to make a good impression."  
"Well, you don't need to worry about that."

* * *

Bucky had to admit, when Tony Stark threw a party, he really threw a party. The penthouse of Stark Tower sparkled as magnificently as the New York skyline visible through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows. An open bar occupied the lower of the two floors; Tony actively encouraged his guests to flock to his newest bartender who could concoct a variety of delicious martinis. For those that preferred a little classicism, gorgeous Amazonian girls strutted around the penthouse holding trays of bubbly. Bucky had already winked at a few. A pianist occupied the grand instrument situated on the upper level. Jarvis, Tony's butler, greeted guests as they entered. And what a guest list it was.

Sting was as every bit as a good friend to Tony as the media made him out to be; the pair hugged enthusiastically and made jokes at each other's expense. Hollywood's most famous were there too- not even Coach Pierce could resist the silver fox that was George Clooney. It was Matt Damon that Bucky found himself clinging too though. The Martian was one of his favourite films, and he could have talked for hours about space if he hadn't been pulled away by Sam Wilson, the team medic.

"What?" hissed Bucky, as they walked to the bar.  
"Man, your fangirl was showing." Laughed Sam, waving at the bartender.  
"So?"  
"So, you'll thank me later when Damon's not issuing a restraining order on you." Replied Sam, holding out a martini just a big, burly blonde approached. He had a glass of scotch in his hand and he took a sip before grinning at his friends.  
"Now, lovebirds. Are you playing nice?"  
"You ever gonna stop calling us that?" groaned Bucky, taking a healthy sip of his drink.  
"You do fight like an old married couple, Buck."  
"We do not!" they cried in unison, and Steve simply stared back pointedly. Bucky scowled and turned away, his eyes scanning the crowd.

Bucky froze, his martini raised halfway as he went to take a sip. There she was. That was her. From this morning. Her glossy brown hair now sat in big curls, bouncing as she turned to Jarvis, hugging him with the warmth of two people who were well acquainted. (Bucky frowned; this had to mean she knew none other than the notorious playboy that was Tony Stark). Her rose red lips were curled up in a smile that lit up her deep brown eyes, as she elegantly sashayed down the stairs. Her high heels clicked on every glass step, and he tried not to drool over them. Or over her bright red dress that he just couldn't tear his eyes away from. It sat midway along her thighs, clinging to her every curve as it disappeared into a halter neck, leaving just a tantalizing glimpse on show.

Sam must have followed his gaze, because he wolf-whistled and rolled his shoulders to smooth out his suit jacket. Bucky glanced at him menacingly as Steve shot them a warning look. "Bucky, don't. She's- "  
"Fellas!" cried Tony, throwing his arms around the little huddle. "What, no bubbles? Svetlana, come here gorgeous, bring some drinks with you. So, you guys enjoying the party?"  
"Ain't no party like a Tony Stark party." Grinned Bucky, as he shook hands with the billionaire. Tony pointed back at him and nodded approvingly. "You got the best drinks and the prettiest dames too." He said, his eyes still following a certain brunette. Tony roared with laughter and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
"I'll have to watch you around my girl. There she is! I'll introduce you. Lola!" he called, and she turned around with a swish of her hair.

Bucky gritted his teeth as Lola walked over with another click of her heels. She had a smile on her face, and a glint in her eyes that even he knew meant trouble. "Nice of you to join us, honey." Sassed Tony, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Bucky scowled again. Of course Tony Stark would have the prettiest girl in the room on his arm. No wonder she had turned him down this morning, who wouldn't when they had a billionaire wrapped around their finger? "Nice of you to invite me." Lola sassed right back, laughing at Tony's eye roll. "You haven't embarrassed yourself already, have you?"  
"When have I ever embarrassed myself?"  
"Let's not open that door." She said, with an eye roll of her own, before pulling Steve into a hug. "Hi Steve, fancy seeing you here."  
"I could say the same about you." Steve chuckled back. Bucky made a mental note to interrogate his best friend later about how he knew Lola and why they had never been introduced.

"Well, I can't turn down prosecco now, can I?" she laughed, taking a glass off the tray that the blonde Tony had called Svetlana presented. Bucky recoiled slightly. So she was a golddigger. That explained a lot- Lola was at least two decades younger than Tony. And she was an aspiring journalist? Either Tony wanted some secrets kept quiet or Lola was sleeping her way to the top.

Tony wrapped an arm around Lola's shoulder now, pointing at Bucky. "You can't turn down the opportunity to meet the country's hottest soccer player, either." He said proudly, and Bucky replied with a small smile, as Lola's eyes bore into him, the glint still there. "James 'Bucky' Barnes." She said, and he relished the way his name rolled off her tongue. "Nice to see you again."  
"Again?" mused Tony, before turning around to greet Pierce, who had clapped him on the shoulder.  
"Twice in one day. I must be a lucky girl."  
"Luck's all mine, doll."  
"Guess we do get to have those drinks after all."  
"Must be fate." He smirked back, glancing at Tony's back before adding; "I get a second chance with you."  
"Oh, you are so cute," She laughed, as Steve shook Bucky's shoulder, a warning look on his face. "Thinking that you had a chance with me at all."  
"Ouch, doll." He feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his heart. "Look sugar, I get it, you're rationed. But get to know a guy before you shoot him down." Steve shook him more furiously, and he glanced at Tony who was still in conversation with Pierce. Sam had grown bored and was flirting brazenly with Svetlana. He knew it was dangerous territory, but he couldn't help himself from flirting. "Now why would I do that?" challenged Lola, and Bucky gave her a smouldering look before lowering his voice.  
"Why deny the chemistry we got, doll? Don't tell me you didn't feel a thing this mornin'."

Bucky grinned to himself as Lola's cheeks tinged pink with blush. She opened her mouth to retort but Tony turned back around, rejoining the group. "Honey, I want you to meet someone. This is Alexander Pierce, team coach."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pierce." She smiled genuinely, kissing both his cheeks. "I apologize for not introducing myself this morning; I was on a tight schedule and I only had time to interview Mr. Barnes."  
"Oh, I see." Said Pierce, looking at Bucky with amusement. "Barnes didn't say a thing about who interviewed him."  
"Wait, you interviewed him?" asked Tony. "Why didn't you say so? What did you think?"  
"Yeah, doll. What'd you think?" smirked Bucky. She cocked her head to the side, appearing to be in deep thought.  
"He knows how to play the game, that's for sure." She said, earning a laugh. She grinned as well, but then softened her face into a genuine smile. "As for his soccer skills, I think he's the real deal. He really puts the team first, and I think that might just make the difference this season. Oh, and maybe some work on his right foot. A good striker should be strong on both feet." Pierce and Tony guffawed, as Steve shook his head good naturedly and Sam roared with laughter at Bucky's expense. Bucky himself shrugged and raised his glass again. "Then it's settled." Said Tony, putting a hand on Pierce's shoulder. "I'm not just sponsoring the club. I'm buying it."

Bucky choked on his martini. " _Buyin_ ' it?"  
"Yeah, I got a good feeling about you, Barnes." Nodded Tony, putting an arm around Lola's shoulders again. "And if you can impress my girl, then I can't really argue with that. Inherited my good instincts she has." He said proudly, and Bucky choked on his martini again. Did Tony just say 'inherited'? He looked between Tony and Lola, the penny finally dropping now that he could see the resemblance. "You mean, she's your daughter?" he asked uncertainly.  
"Yeah, geez, do I feel old having a grown-up daughter. Pierce, let's go drink until I forgot how old I am."

"I tried to tell you." Said Steve reasonably, as Bucky stared with wide eyes.  
"I t-thought…"  
"You thought what?" smirked Lola.  
"Jesus, you're one hell of a woman, you know that, doll? I'm not the only round here who can play the game." He chuckled.  
"You still don't stand a chance."

 *** Tik Tok- Ke$ha**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Wow, I feel like I just accomplished something huge now that I've finished JAHSC! To be fair, fifty chapters- that really was something, right? So, now that's done and dusted, I'm moving on! I've decided I'll be updating this every Monday. Monday is a strong contender for worst day of the week, so hopefully an update will get you through the day, or even make the day just that little bit better! Here's to hoping anyway! I'm not quite sure how long this story is going to be, because I'm still writing it and planning it as I go along, but it's not going to be a mega fifty that's for sure. I think it's going to be a lot less, but I'm really enjoying this right now. It's challenging in a new way, and I'd like to think that now I'm in the flow of writing, my writing itself is improving. I always love hearing what you think, so if you have any suggestions, ideas, criticisms, praises (hopefully lots of these!), then I am more than happy to hear them!**

 **Please do review or drop me a message- honestly, the greatest compliment a writer can receive is hearing what their readers' opinions are. I really do love to hear from you guys!**

 **Anyway, I'll leave you with this chapter! Remember, it's in no-way connected to any of my other stories, even though I'm using the same OC. Happy reading, and I'll see you next Monday!**

* * *

 **Warnings** : **alcohol, implied smut, language**

 **Chapter 3: The club can't even handle me right now***

"I have never seen you so deep in thought during training." Said Steve, passing a soccer ball back and forth. Bucky didn't respond, continuing to pass the ball too, his brows furrowed as he concentrated deeply on something. Presumably not training. "Are you even listening? Buck!"  
"What?" asked Bucky irritably, taking his eyes off the ball.  
"What's up with you, man?" laughed Steve. "Not still thinking about Lola, are you? It's been four days."  
"How'd you even know her? You've never said a damn word." He demanded, failing to sound nonchalant.  
"Not exactly casual conversation, is it, Buck?"  
"Didn't even know Stark had a daughter." Muttered Bucky, and Steve threw the ball at his head. "Ow! Shit, Steve! What the hell was that for?"  
"You know what, Buck." Said Steve warningly. "You're just asking for trouble."  
"What, Captain Rogers betrothed to her or somethin'?"  
"She's the boss' daughter." Said Steve, looking his best friend square in the eyes. "Don't jeopardise your career."  
"What's life without a lil risk?" grinned Bucky wolfishly.  
"You know what? Do what you want." Laughed Steve. "Not like she's gonna say yes to you."  
Bucky pretended to look hurt. "Aw, come on, Buck. You know as well as I do; you're not exactly a one-woman guy."  
"For her, I could be." He joked, and Steve rolled his eyes. He aimed the ball at Bucky's head again.  
"Ten bucks says you go home with the girl with the lowest cut dress tonight."

* * *

"No. Nat, I can't wear this!" cried Lola, over the Shakira songs Natasha was booming from her iPod. The redhead was shaking her hips as she slipped on a pair of heels to match the leopard print dress she had on. There was no denying that she was absolutely stunning. Natasha Romanoff oozed sex and glamour; Lola was convinced she didn't even need to try. Natasha stopped to look round at her best friend.  
"Really? Because it _is_ on your body."  
"And it feels like it could fall off at any second! What are the straps made from? Dental floss?"  
"Don't be so dramatic. If it falls off, you'll definitely grab the attention of a hot stud."  
"Nat!"  
"Lola Maria Stark. Did you, or did you not, tell Pietro that your ass would be gracing the club tonight?"  
"I did." She groaned, having spent the better part of the last hour regretting making such a promise.  
"Exactly. So we're going out, and you're going to show him exactly what he's missing."  
"Okay." Agreed Lola, somewhat reluctantly. She eyed herself nervously in the mirror.

Natasha had forced her into a skintight black dress. The straps hung low, the neckline with it. Lola was sure that if she toppled over- and let's face it, in heels as high as those, she definitely would- her boobs would fall out the dress and so would her ass. The last thing she needed was a 'Stark-ers' headline gracing the papers.  
"Ready?"

* * *

Marquee was New York's hottest club. After a major refurbishment and management change, it had reopened its doors and was creating quite the buzz. Headline DJs, exclusive cocktails, masquerade and circus acts. Not to mention its VIP section was very popular with New York's famous faces. Hence the exclusive invitation Lola had received. "Yikes." Said Natasha, as they stepped out the cab and saw the enormous line. Lola laughed and led her right to front.  
"Hi, Grimm." She smiled at the bouncer.  
"Miss. Stark." He smiled back. "Jarvis phoned ahead to tell us you'd be coming. Welcome to Marquee." He removed the red barrier and Lola flashed a grin at him.  
"I love being your best friend." Sighed Natasha, as they hurried inside. "Wow!"

It was dim, but electric green lights shone on the hoops suspended in mid-air, scantily clad women spinning in them. The famous wishbone shaped staircase that led to the VIP balcony stood magnificently towards the back, whilst bars occupied the length of the club. Music boomed through the space, Steve Aoki taking up residency in the DJ booth.

"Is this not what you imagined it to be?" drawled an English voice, and Lola whipped around to see a tall, slender man approach them. His black hair was slicked back, and an all-knowing smile on his face.  
"It's everything you promised it to be, Loki. Hi." Smiled Lola, kissing his cheeks.  
"Hello, to you too, Miss. Stark. And your friend, might I ask what your name is?"  
"Natasha." She smiled, holding her hand out.  
"Charmed." Replied Loki, kissing it. "Well, ladies, I trust you will experience a magical evening. Feel free to sample as much of the cocktail menu as you wish- my gift to you."

With that, he vanished into thin air, leaving the two girls giggling as they made their way to the bar. Lola spotted Pietro's mop of white blonde hair, and didn't hesitate when she was handed a cocktail that had both absinthe and tequila in it. "We are getting you a hot lay tonight." Said Natasha loudly, and Lola blushed, smacking her friend on the arm. "What? You need it."  
"Oh, thanks, Nat."  
"The best way to get over a man, is to get under one. Hey, maybe Barnes will turn up tonight. That's definitely one way to forget Pietro."  
"If you're going to give me that kind of pep talk, I'm going to need a lot more of these." Said Lola, waving her empty glass at the bartender.

Three drinks later, the pair found themselves in peals of giggles as they tottered to the dance floor. "I love this song!" they screamed over the music, clutching at each other and dancing. Spotting Pietro walking through the VIP balcony above them, Lola pulled Natasha against her, whispering urgently in her ear. "Do you think he's seen us?"  
"Maybe, let's give him a show."

Lola giggled as Natasha spun her around, and grinded against her. It wasn't the first time they had pulled this trick; it worked like a charm every time. When Natasha pulled away, Lola grinned to herself, knowing it had worked. And sure enough, a very masculine pair of hands were now on her waist. She wasn't sure if it was the cocktails, but he smelt intoxicating, and she held herself back from jumping on him. Natasha gave her a quick wink, dancing with a tall and broad black man that looked very familiar. But Lola wasn't worried- it couldn't hurt to let loose for one night, could it? The songs began to blend together, her hips falling into rhythm with each passing tune, and she almost forgot this was all an act to piss Pietro off.

Maybe Natasha had been right after all. Maybe the best way to get over her old man, was to get under a new one. Lola hoped the mystery man she was dancing with was as hot as he felt. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his hands gripped her hips in a soft, yet firm touch. She was mesmerised by the sparks his fingers ignited, setting her whole body ablaze. She could only hope that this moment would last forever.

"Told you we should've had that interview with a few drinks. You're so much more in your element, doll." Said a voice huskily in her ear. Lola froze. She recognised that voice. She could practically hear the smirk in it. "Mr. Barnes," she said, her ass still pressed against him. "Third time this week, are you stalking me?" And then, pulling a move that sober Lola was only going to hate her for, she continued to dance, dropping down low and back up, dragging her ass across all the right places. " _Shit_ , doll. When you're dancing like that, can you blame me? Let's get a drink."

 _Calm down, Lola. He's getting you a drink, not getting you in bed_. Wait, where did that thought come from? She hated him! He was a self-confessed player. Trouble, that's what he was. But then Bucky grabbed her hand, spinning her round to face him and flashed her a charming smile; she felt her resolve weaken. Her head was swimming with thoughts, and she looked at Natasha in alarm, but Natasha only egged her on. "Stop thinkin' so hard, doll." Said Bucky, pulling her close, his fingers caressing her hips. "I can see the wheels turning in your head. Just… let go and have some fun. What're you drinkin'?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lola caught a glimpse of Pietro; convinced he did a double take when he saw her. Bucky's lips were on her ear and she felt like putty in his hands. Especially with that cheeky smile on his face that glinted in those baby blue eyes. Taking a leaf out of the Natasha Romanoff handbook, she pressed her boobs against his chest and her lips to his ear. "I'm sampling the cocktails. Surprise me. I hear there's one with whipped cream. See you upstairs."

Lola grinned to herself as she sauntered off. She could have sworn she heard Bucky whistle, and it only made her grin harder, as she did her best to walk straight in her high heels. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she didn't pay attention to her surroundings and walked smack bang into Pietro. Her eyes widening, she clutched her stomach, feeling like it was about to drop out of her ass at any given second. All of a sudden, she wondered if perhaps she had made a huge mistake.

"Lola." Said Pietro boredly, raising an eyebrow. He cast a gaze over her. "That is… an interesting dress. It must be getting you lots of free drinks tonight. Especially when you are pulling dance moves on the asshole going to the bar."  
"Fuck you, Pietro!" cried Lola. "Where's Barbie? Or have you dropped her for Sindy?"  
"Hilarious. But you are changing the subject. We were talking about how you are flaunting yourself off to every fool here tonight. Perhaps I should save this one the trouble? Tell him you'll be boring by the time he gets you home."  
Angry tears stung Lola's eyes, her emotions dialling straight to pure rage. _He_ had been the one to cheat on _her_. What right did he have to be angry?  
"Or maybe he's just more of a man and better in bed than you are. Sorry, Pietro, you just never did it for me."  
"You are such a- "

"Lola, everythin' alright, doll?" asked Bucky, a cocktail waitress beside him with their drinks on a tray. He put his arm possessively around Lola, pulling her against him. Despite his flirtatious nature, she was grateful for the gesture. She cringed, wondering how long he had been there and just how much of her exchange with her ex he had heard. Seemingly, it didn't matter to him, as he stared menacingly at Pietro. "Any reason you're insultin' my lady, pal?"  
"Shit!" swore Pietro, his glass tipping as his drink sloshed everywhere. "You're Bucky Barnes!"  
"Yeah, he is." Interjected Lola with a newfound confidence. She wrapped herself around Bucky and smirked at Pietro, who looked dumbfounded as his eyes flickered between them. "Like I said, Pietro, you just never did it for me. Lucky for me, I found someone who does."  
"You? And him?" laughed Pietro.  
"Yes. And we're very happy together, aren't we, Bucky?" she simpered, silently pleading at him to play along as she danced her fingertips along his chest.  
"You got that right, doll." He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. He pulled her closer and smiled at Pietro. "She's amazin', right? Always my biggest fan. Did you catch the game last night? I reckon having her there in the crowd really upped my game. Must be my lucky charm."  
"We're _really_ happy." Emphasised Lola, glancing at Pietro, who was clenching his jaw, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.  
"She's everythin'. Well, guess you wouldn't know anymore. Your loss, pal."  
"I do not believe you." Huffed Pietro.  
"You don't have to." Fumed Lola.

Before Bucky could say anything, Lola had pulled his face down towards hers and pressed her mouth furiously to his. She tried to remember she was only doing this to piss off Pietro, but it was pointless. _Oh my God, he is such a good kisser_ she thought to herself, as he moved his lips against hers. They were soft and warm, and she wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer. His tongue drew circles on her lips and she moaned, melting against him.

When she finally pulled apart for air, she turned her head to see Pietro had vanished. He had stormed off, pushing people out of his way viciously in his sprint to the bar. "Bucky?"  
"Mm hm?" he replied, his lips now nipping at her ear.  
"I think I need that drink now." She choked, gently pushing him away and snatching what looked like a martini with whipped cream from the cocktail waitress who stood there, a look of pure envy on her face. She drank it down in large gulps and practically threw the empty glass back on the tray, as Bucky put down a hefty tip and sent the waitress on her way.  
"Thank you." Said Lola breathily. "And for the drink too. But I have to get out of here."  
"Whoa, where'd you think you're goin', doll?"  
"I want to go."  
"Come on, I'll take you."  
"No, thank you. I really need some air. I have to go."  
"Lola, you're drunk. I'm not letting you go on your own."  
"No, no, I need Nat. Where's Nat?" she asked hurriedly. Bucky chuckled and pointed towards the bar.  
"Looks like Wilson found his match. Your friend drinks vodka like a Russian."  
"Oh."  
"Oh is right. Come on, I know a burger bar round here. Let's get some food in you, and then I'll take you home. Alright, doll?"  
"I don't know…"  
"Least you owe me after that lil show back there." He grinned. Lola eyed him nervously.  
"No funny business?"  
"Cross my heart." He said solemnly.

"Okay." She agreed. She made towards the exit but Bucky held out an arm to stop her. "What?" she asked, and he chuckled again. He leant forward and placed the gentlest kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, he had a whipped cream moustache. "You had a lil somethin' there." He winked, taking her hand and leading her to the door, as she gazed dreamily at him.

Lola thought that half the cocktail menu would have provided her with a sufficient alcohol blanket, but she was covered in goosebumps as soon as the cool city air hit her. No sooner had she shivered, that Bucky had draped his jacket over her shoulders. "I know you don't have the highest opinion of me, but I'm not a monster, doll." He chuckled, gripping her hand firmly as they crossed the street. Lola looked guiltily at her shoes, letting him lead the way. "You're awful quiet. Not gonna chuck up are you?"  
"A Stark always holds their liqueur."  
"Should've told me sooner, doll."  
"That I can hold my liqueur? Or that I'm a Stark?" she asked playfully, and he grinned at her.  
"Not gonna lie, that was some news." He chuckled.  
"Why were you so shocked?"  
"Gorgeous girl like you's gonna get me in a whole lotta trouble with your old man. Here we go. After you."

As soon as a burger and an enormous pile of fries was placed in front of Lola, the world around her fell away and she devoured it like a lion feasting on its prey. Halfway through, she looked up to see Bucky lazily munching on his own food, and a big grin on his face. "What?" she asked, swallowing the chunk of burger in her mouth.  
"Not many girls I know would eat a burger with that much enthusiasm."  
"Oh God," she cringed, dropping her fistful of fries. "You must think I'm so fat."  
"You misunderstood me, doll. It's real nice to see a girl enjoy her food for once."  
"What, all those girls you date and not a single one likes food?" she joked, sipping her Diet Coke. He shrugged and threw a couple of fries in his mouth.  
"Don't matter where I take 'em, they just order a salad."  
"So, why do you date them then?"  
"They're beautiful women and I'm not a relationship kinda guy." He replied all too quickly, and Lola suddenly felt awkward.  
"That was too personal, wasn't it?" she asked apologetically.  
"Maybe you can answer a personal question and we'll call it quits, kay?"  
"Oh-kay." She agreed, leaning forward.

"Blondie, back at the club?" asked Bucky, his bright blue eyes boring into Lola.  
"He's my ex. Pietro." She replied flatly.  
"You don't say. What's his deal?"  
"I don't know." She answered honestly, stabbing a fry in some ketchup. "He screwed me over, and he's acting like I was the one whoring around."  
"You found him in bed with some other dame?" he asked bluntly. He must have caught the look in her eye, because he softened his features. "I overheard what you were saying to him. I wasn't being nosey, doll. I didn't say nothing 'cause I didn't wanna ruin your night."  
"Yes. I found him in bed with someone else." She admitted, pulling his jacket closer over her. Her tone made it clear that she was done answering his questions, and her fingers tapped the table. She had lost her appetite.

"I think I'm ready to go home now." Lola said softly, and Bucky nodded. She reached for her purse but he had already put down some bills on the table, and refused to let her pay. Instead, he took her hand again and helped her into a cab, climbing in after her. "Stalking my apartment now?" laughed Lola.  
"I'll be the one holdin' the boombox." He laughed back. They fell into a comfortable silence; Lola staring out the window as the bright city lights whizzed by. She watched Bucky from the corner of her eye; as he watched her. The buzz of the alcohol was gone now, and she took in his features properly. There was a warmth in his steel blue eyes, and a definite cheeky streak that she was growing quite fond of. A smirk toyed with the upper corners of his lips- was it really any wonder women threw themselves at his feet when he had a smile like that?

Before she could get truly lost in him, the cab came to an abrupt halt. To her surprise, Bucky was out in a flash and helping her. He shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked in silence to the building. They were halfway there when Lola swivelled on her heel, reaching out for his arm to stop him. "I owe you an apology." She said, as he looked back at her with confusion furrowing his brows. "The interview, I wasn't exactly nice to you. I'm not saying I agree with your lifestyle. But, I came in having made assumptions about you based on my own current experience, and that was wrong of me. So… I'm sorry."  
"Gee, thanks, doll."  
"I think this is the part where you apologise, too."  
"Apologise? For what? Flirtin' with a beautiful woman like yourself? Nah."  
"Goodnight, Mr. Barnes." Said Lola, rolling her eyes.  
"'Night to you too, Miss. Stark. Say, when do I get to read that article then?"  
"Tomorrow, in the paper, just like everybody else."

 *** Club Can't Handle Me- Flo Rida**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: It feels so good to say, I swear, that I don't care**

"Wake up, sleeping beauty! It's here!" screamed Natasha, running into Lola's room and jumping on the bed.

Lola shot up as Natasha threw a rolled up newspaper at her. Catching it, she quickly unfurled it and skipped to the sports pages. Natasha snuggled up beside her best friend, wrapping a knitted grey blanket around herself. It was a crisp Autumn morning, and the city was already awake despite it being a Saturday. If it hadn't been for the night before, there was no way either of them could have slept through the noise seeping in from the streets below. Lola quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and held up the newspaper.

" _Bend it like Barnes: an exclusive interview_." she read aloud. " _By Lola Stark_."

"You're officially published. Congratulations!" grinned Natasha, and Lola squealed happily, clutching the paper to her chest. Natasha pulled it from her and began to read.

" _Once reserved for the streets of South America and the grand stage of Europe, the world's favourite game is about to the take the US by storm. Leading the attack, is the New York Red Bull's very own James Buchanan Barnes_." she stopped reading as Lola threw a pillow over her face, hiding behind it in happy embarrassment.

"Is this based on your awful Monday morning with him? Or did last night lead to a few edits? That is, if you weren't too busy…"

"Nothing happened." replied Lola honestly, as Natasha eyed her slyly.

Well, nothing beyond that kiss at least. She felt a blush creep up over her cheeks as she thought back to that fateful kiss she had shared with _Bucky_ last night. Perhaps she had been drunk, and perhaps it had just been for Pietro's benefit, but she had never been kissed like _that_ before. It had been positively electric. The kind that ignited fireworks and stirred something within her.

"Nothing?" asked Natasha. It was evident from her tone that she didn't believe it. "Is that why you're blushing like a schoolgirl?"

"Nothing happened." repeated Lola, throwing off the covers and jumping out of bed. "We had a drink, he helped me get home and… that's it."

"What about Pietro?" pushed Natasha, burrowing under the abandoned covers.

With her bluntness and ability to pry details out of even the most secretive of people, it was no wonder she had landed a position as the newspaper's political editor. Lola thought about her question.

"I'm over him." she concluded with a shrug, picking up her clothes from last night off the floor.

Spotting a bundle of black leather, her eyes widened when she realised it was _his_ jacket. She must have forgotten to give it back. It smelt deliciously of him, and she quickly shoved it into the furthest depths of her wardrobe. Natasha sat up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, as Lola skipped to the bathroom.

She heard the shower switch on and Lola poked her head round the door.

"I am going out, and I am going to do whatever the hell I want. Because I can. And I'm not going to be dragged down by some stupid ex."

"Who are you and what have you done with Lola Stark?"

Lola cackled to herself as she stood under the hot stream of water. It was true, she did feel like a different person. At least on the inside anyway. And it was a _good_ thing. It was time to take some drastic action. Dressed in just her towel, she began a search through her wardrobe, emptying half of it in a heap on the floor in the process. They reminded her far too much of Pietro, and the person she had shrunk into when she was with him. It was official, she needed a new wardrobe. An emergency credit card from Tony sat in her purse, and she chewed her lip nervously. Vowing to never use it, it had only gathered dust. But… it couldn't hurt to use it once, could it? Reinventing herself after a nasty break-up constituted an emergency, right? Before she could change her mind, she marched out her bedroom and banged on Natasha's door.

"Get ready, loser! We're going shopping!"

Lola quickly realised she loved shopping. The beautiful dresses; trying on high heels; even assessing if that pair of jeans really did make her bum look good. Why had she ever given up shopping? Oh, _Pietro_ , that was why. He had somehow convinced her that shopping was the devil's favourite pastime, and that a weekend spent on the couch was a much worthier activity. That, and the measly salary Barton paid her was nearly not enough to buy Louboutins and Chanel handbags. Today was the only day she was going to let daddy's credit card sponsor her fun. And it didn't escape his attention.

"Hello." said Lola cheerily, answering her phone as she marched down the street, shopping bags swinging from her arms.

Natasha had ditched her to go run some errands, so for the last half hour she had been strolling around Manhattan in no particular direction.

"Well, you sound awful chipper today, honey. Could it have something to do with the five thousand bucks you just dropped?"

"Oh, you noticed, huh?"

"AmEx called me up, told me there was some _unusual_ activity. Someone was actually _using_ the card. I didn't believe it at first, but then it was used at that sushi place we love so much. Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. Even though I _am_ a genius."

"And a very modest genius you are too, daddy."

"Screw modesty, I'm a genius, let me have my moment."

"Is there some reason you called, daddy? Other than to brag about yourself, I mean?"

"Sorry, got distracted by my own magnificence there. Family dinner tonight. Invite Romanoff. Rhodey's in town. And we're celebrating."

"I'll be there." smiled Lola, stopping in front of a hair salon. She cocked her head to the side and grinned. "I just have one more stop to make."

* * *

"Ah, the sweet smell of pizza." breathed Tony, inhaling deeply as Natasha put down the stack of boxes in her arms.

He lifted a lid and reached for a slice, but quick as a whip, she slapped his hand away. Tony scowled and rubbed his hand.

"What are you? The pizza police?" he muttered under his breath, heading for the bar and glancing at Natasha over his shoulder. She smiled sweetly back, before sticking her tongue out at him. "Where's my daughter? Haven't you been blowing my money with her all day?" he asked, as Jarvis precariously balanced a trayful of plates and glasses.

Natasha merely shrugged. Rhodey, as he was affectionately called, took some of the weight, setting the plates down besides the pizza boxes.

"I believe she is on her way up, sir. I can hear the elevator." called Jarvis, handing Natasha a bottle opener.

Lola strutted in, and Natasha's jaw dropped. Confused, Jarvis and Rhodey turned around, their jaws too, hitting the floor. Tony walked over and slyly slipped a slice of pizza out the box. He bit into it and when he didn't get a reaction from Natasha, he waved a hand in front of her face.

"Not so ninja now, are you, Romanoff?" he said with a mouthful of pizza.

Natasha looked at Tony with disgust, as Lola stopped in front of them and helped herself to a slice of pizza. Tony did a double take and gawked at her. She chewed her pizza slowly and glanced round at the shocked faces staring at her.

"What?" she asked, and Natasha blinked.

"Nothing." she said quickly, busying herself with handing out plates.

Jarvis quickly greeted Lola, before dashing off to fetch the champagne. Lola narrowed her eyes suspiciously and looked at Tony and Rhodey for an explanation. But they were unyielding; insisting that everyone sit down and eat the pizza before it went cold. Lola nudged Natasha, but she had her poker-face on and there was no getting past that.

"What exactly are we celebrating?" asked Lola, as Jarvis reappeared with a bottle and some flutes.

"Your article, of course." said Rhodey, as Tony popped the cork.

There was a small cheer, and very quick reflexes on Jarvis' part as he caught the stream of bubbly in a flute.

"Read it in the paper this morning. Congratulations."

"You certainly did your research, Miss. Stark." added Jarvis. "I couldn't even tell you hardly know a thing about football."

"I'm proud of you, kid." said Tony, handing Lola the first flute of champagne. She beamed at him. "You always said you were gonna make it."

"It's just one article, daddy."

"The first of many."

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me or what?" pressed Lola, as she and Natasha forced their many shopping bags through the front door of their apartment.

It was a decent apartment, better than decent even. The front door lead to an open plan living area; a kitchen and dining area on the left and plush couches on the right. A TV was mounted on the wall, and the shelves were stacked with books and photographs. Natasha was far more minimalistic and fuss-free, but since Lola had moved in she had brought a touch of homeliness with her. The couches were now stacked with cushions and cosy blankets. A rug or two had been thrown here and there; and an Indian scarf had been draped over the edges of the floor length mirror. Big white candles populated the gaps on the shelves, and the vase on the coffee table was always filled with fresh flowers. The two bedrooms were fairly comfortable too; the floor length windows offering views of the street below and the typical Manhattan style buildings across the road.

Natasha dropped her shopping bags on the floor of her bedroom and stood in the doorway, looking at Lola up and down.

"You look hot." she winked, blowing a kiss and closing the door after her.

Lola turned and examined herself in the floor length mirror. Following her shopping spree, she was decked in black ankle boots with a chunky heel, skinny black jeans and a white t-shirt; she was wearing a tan suede jacket on top and had wrapped a plaid scarf around her neck. A far cry from her usual sneakers and mom jeans. The biggest change, however, was her brown hair. Before, it sat in straight lines that reached her bum, but now, it was soft and shiny, curling softly as the ends skimmed the tops of her breasts. Smoothing out her scarf, Lola smiled to herself. Yeah, she did look _hot_.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Lola tiptoed over, wondering who on earth could be calling this late at night. A hand on the latch, she peeked out into the doorway to see a big, smiley face in the peephole; his voluminous blonde tresses in a knotted mess as always.

"Hi, Thor. What are you doing here?" greeted Lola, opening the door to find her neighbour on the doormat. He bowed his head and held out an enormous bunch of red roses.

"Pardon the intrusion at such a late hour, Lady Stark, but I took the liberty of holding these for you as you were out."

"I didn't order any roses." said Lola, her brows furrowed as Thor thrust them into her open arms.

"Oh no, my lady, they are from a gentleman, I believe. Intimidating fellow, but endearing. Good hair, too. He was clutching a soccer ball which leads me to believe he intended to go for a game in the park after delivering these."

"A soccer ball. You don't say." she muttered, noticing a card. "Well, thank you, Thor."

"It was no problem. Goodnight, my lady." boomed Thor, and Lola was sure his footsteps alone had woken up the entire building.

"Wait, Thor! You're a personal trainer, right?"

"Your information is correct, Lady Stark."

"Could you squeeze me in for a session tomorrow? Pretty please?"

"That would be splendid! I shall knock for you at first light!"

"Maybe not first light, Thor."

"At eight then! Goodnight!"

Lola shut the door with her foot and carted the roses into her bedroom. Placing them carefully on her desk, she plucked the card and opened it. It was a simple message, nothing fancy. But it made her heart skip a beat and a heat to flush her cheeks nonetheless. She thought about it as she brushed her teeth and climbed into bed, falling asleep with the card still clutched in her palm.

 _Thanks for the article. You're a doll. - JBB x_

* * *

Across town, Bucky Barnes was tossing and turning in his king sized bed. He had been lying awake in bed for what seemed like hours, which didn't bode well considering he had a match tomorrow afternoon. Swearing profusely, he tossed the covers aside and swung his legs out of bed; he stared out at Central Park, just visible between the slats of the venetian blinds. New York was the city that never slept, and right now, he had never felt more awake.

Red roses. He had bought her a dozen _red_ _roses_. As if he were making some grand romantic gesture. He couldn't even remember the last time he had bought a girl flowers. Not unless you counted his mother on her last birthday. Romance was just something he didn't do. He flirted with girls. He dated girls. He slept with girls. He never called them back. So, why was he sitting here, on his expensive lambskin leather couch, with the image of one girl in particular seared into his memory? He could smell the coconut of her shampoo, feel her curves under his fingers, taste her lipstick on his tongue. Groaning, he reached for his phone and typed out a quick text.

 _You up? - JBB_

The reply was almost instant.

 _At 2am? For you? Always ;) - DU_

Less than thirty minutes later, the redhead was at his door, a sly smile on her face. He barely waited for her to step inside before his lips were on hers in a bruising kiss and his hands were tugging at the belt of her knee-length jacket. It dropped to the floor, revealing her naked body underneath.

"You came here like that?" he breathed, as she led him to the guest bedroom she knew all too well.

He had never made love to a woman in his own bed before. That was _his_ space, his sanctuary. It kept things uncomplicated.

"Don't tell me you invited me over for a candlelit dinner." she drawled, pushing him down on the bed.

He didn't object when she pulled down his pyjama pants, losing himself in the sensation of her mouth. She in turn let him pound his frustration into her, wrapping her long legs around his waist. It was over almost as soon as it started. A quick fuck.

Bucky lay back on the bed, his arms spread out as he stared at the ceiling. He turned his head to watch when Dottie wrapped the snow white sheet around herself and stood out the terrace, a cigarette balanced between her red-tipped fingers. The urge to take a puff caught him by surprise. He had given up that habit a very long time ago.

"So." said Dottie, blowing a smoke ring into the New York skyline. "What's got you so wound up, stud?"

"Game tomorrow." he lied, rubbing his eyes to avoid her gaze.

"How stupid do you think I am?" she tittered, her beady eyes watching him over the top of her diminishing cigarette.

He sighed, as his thoughts flew back to the woman he had been so desperately trying to forget. But it was futile; as Dottie straddled him and he found himself wishing it were _her_ brown eyes raking over him and _her_ fingers tracing lines on his chest instead. Shoving Dottie off him, he marched back to his room, not bothering with his pyjama pants. Dottie huffed and crossed her arms dejectedly as he shouted over his shoulder; "let yourself out".

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" asked Natasha, screwing an earring in.

She was dressed in a pair of black culottes and a white shirt that accentuated her impressive curves. Fluffing her red curls one final time, she stepped out her bedroom to see Lola easing herself onto the couch.

"You know Jane loves to predict your horoscope." she added, filling the hot water bottle and holding it out.

Lola accepted it gratefully and placed it behind her shoulder, setting a cushion there to hold it in place. Her stiff muscles were the result of three intense days of personal training with Thor. She wasn't necessarily an unhealthy person, but after hours of hitting a giant tyre with an enormous mallet, there was only so much physical strain her body could take. Thor had made a joke about how a beautiful lady such as herself should be well acquainted with physical activity, unwittingly angering her into shouting about her lack of sex across a busy gym. Thor had decided perhaps a day or two to recuperate her muscles was in order.

And so on a Wednesday night, when she should be going out with her friends, she found herself marooned on her couch in a pair of pyjama shorts and an oversized MIT sweater she stole from Tony, the remote in one hand and a take-out menu in the other. She winced as Natasha kissed her cheeks.

"Just think, your revenge body is so gonna be worth it." she said, as she sashayed out. "Don't wait up for me, sweetie!"

Grumbling at her misfortune, Lola adjusted the sweater that kept slipping off her shoulder. Nearly every channel was playing a rom-com, and she was convinced that it was a sick sort of joke from God to mock her further when she was in physical pain. She hadn't been lying when she told Natasha she was over Pietro, but there were still pangs of loneliness here and there.

There were cold mornings where she wished she had a boyfriend to steal sweaters from; and climbing into a double bed alone at night made her sad too. Truth be told, she just wanted the affection and the excitement of a passionate lover. Someone who made her heart race and someone who would tear her clothes off the second they walked in the door.

The doorbell rang and Lola's head jerked up, like a meerkat sniffing a feast. The doorbell rang again and she slowly stood up, grateful that she had at least put on some mascara today and washed her hair. Maybe this was a sign from God. Maybe he had heard her. Maybe he was answering her prayers. Making herself as presentable as possible, she flung open the door.

"Bucky?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: You're the one I want to want me**

"Hey, doll." Bucky winked, breezing past her into the apartment, his chest briefly pressed against hers as he squeezed his beefy figure through the doorway.

Lola looked out into the hallway with puzzlement, before slowly shutting the door.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted, as he glanced around the apartment.

He furrowed his brows, as if solving some great dilemma.

"Well, I thought 'bout it, and really, I should teach you 'bout soccer."

"What?"

"Don't take it the wrong way, sweetheart, your article was neat. But if you're gonna be writin' 'bout me, you need to be in the know."

"You turn up unannounced." she said through gritted teeth, her voice low with anger. "You waltz into my home. And then you _insult_ me?"

"I bought pizza." he said innocently, flashing her that cheeky, lopsided grin as he shook the box in his hand.

The smell of freshly melted cheese wafted through the air and she rolled her eyes. Snatching it from him, she hobbled to the couch and helped herself to a slice, holding back a blissful moan. After three days of Thor's healthy meal plans, it was like a small slice of heaven.

Bucky shrugged off his jacket and sat down beside Lola, his knee brushing her bare one. _Did his jeans have to hug his thighs that snugly?_ She swallowed the chunk in her mouth; fighting the blush that threatened her face.

"Ease up there, doll. At least half is mine." he chuckled, reaching for the pizza.

She quickly shoved the box towards him, their hands briefly touching.

"So, _Mr. Barnes_ ; when does the soccer lesson begin?"

"I'm glad you asked, _Miss. Stark_." he said, picking up the remote control from the couch, his fingers innocently brushing her thighs.

Her face reddened, and she nibbled at her pizza slice, keeping her eyes fixed on the television screen.

"See, they're showin' this game tonight. I gotta say, it's all my all time favourite. You'll love it."

"What, a leggy blonde give you a medal at the end of it?"

"Now that would've been somethin'..."

Lola listened patiently as he explained the game. It was a relatively old one, taking place back in 2005. It was a cup final of some sort, for an elite competition of Europe's best soccer teams. The team in red was English, Liverpool; and they were opposing an Italian team called AC Milan. She found herself enthralled by his words. She didn't have a care in the world for soccer, but the sheer passion with which he delivered his words was mesmerising. His hands were in the air, making all sorts of gestures; and the smile on his face was akin to a child in an ice cream shop. It didn't help that his voice was velvety smooth and set a fire ablaze low in her belly.

"... and I'm not gonna give a thing away, but boy, it's one hell of a game." he breathed, standing up and strolling to the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator and squinted inside, pulling out two bottles of water. And just like that, Lola's eyes were rolling in her sockets again.

"By all means, make yourself at home."

"Gee, thanks, doll." he smiled genuinely, leaning back on the couch and stretching his legs out on the coffee table beside hers. He bit his lip and smirked at her.

"You got nice gams." he said lowly, chuckling when she slapped his hand away.

"Keep your moves for the soccer field, Bucky." she warned and he held his hands up innocently.

Bucky was decidedly animated as they watched the first forty five minutes of the game. He had seen it plenty of times before, but as he jokingly put it; "it's like every time is my first". Lola, on the other hand, just couldn't understand his enthusiasm. It wasn't like he had played this game, or for either of those two teams. He was cheering on the red team, but by the end of the first half, they were losing by three goals to none, and looking utterly defeated. When she pointed this out to him, he put an arm around her shoulders and told her to have faith.

Her concentration began to falter as the second half began. She was all too aware of his presence; she was pressed into him with the weight of his bicep around her; his right hand dangling just by her breasts. His cologne was all she could smell, and she resisted the urge to turn her face and bury it in his neck.

There was a hint of silver and black lines peeking out from under the short sleeve of his left arm, and she clenched her fists to stop herself from ripping his t-shirt off to get a better look at the tattoo. He glanced at her every so often, smirking when his blue eyes caught her brown ones.

Ignoring the gorgeous hunk of a man wrapped around her, Lola haughtily tipped her chin up, just as the losing Reds somehow managed to sneak in a goal. Bucky let out a cheer and she narrowed her eyes.

"They're going to win aren't they?" she asked him, and despite the enormous smile on his face, he played it cool with a shrug.

Then there was a second goal and Lola clapped her hands to her mouth in anticipation.

"They're really going to do it, aren't they?" she whispered excitedly.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with hope and shock.

"You're really gettin' into this, huh?" he grinned, squeezing the arm around her briefly.

And to Bucky's enormous surprise, Lola didn't shy away from him; instead, she gave him a smile before turning back to the soccer game she was now utterly transfixed by. His smile widened. It might have been cliche, but there was something downright sexy about a beautiful woman enjoying his favourite sport. His brain was working overtime trying to maintain his self-control. Her legs went on for miles in those tiny satin shorts she was wearing. And that sweater that kept sliding off to reveal her tiny, bare shoulder was pitching a serious tent in his jeans. All he really wanted to do was lean over and kiss those pink pouty lips and run his fingers through her hair. The change hadn't escaped his attention. He had liked it when it was straight and long, but he loved it now that it was a little shorter and in soft waves. Plucking up the courage, he leant over, his lips barely brushing her ear.

"I like what you did with your hair, doll." he whispered, relishing in the way she shivered.

She muttered a thank you, as her cheeks turned pink, offering him another shy smile before turning back to the game.

When the Reds finally scored that third goal they needed to level the scoreline, she let out a scream and threw her arms around him in a hug, kicking her legs happily. Until her stiff muscles had her crying out in pain.

"Hey, you okay, doll?" asked Bucky worriedly, a little deflated as she pulled away.

He kept his hands on her waist as she winced and shifted around on the couch.

"I'm really sore."

"Yeah? Which fella's responsible for that?" he asked, an uncomfortable smile on his face.

Was that a hint of jealousy she detected in his voice?

"His name's Thor." she pouted, stretching her arms behind her back and pushing her chest out at him. His eyes briefly glanced down, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

"Been workin' you hard?"

"From the moment I wake up." she nodded. "All my muscles ache."

"Well, I could, uh, give you a massage. I'm not just good with my feet." he winked, switching the charm back on.

Before she could answer, he was on the floor in a whizz and rubbing his thumbs into her calves. She bit back a moan as he leant forward, his breath hot on her ear and his hair tickling her face.

"Just relax, doll. Enjoy the rest of the game."

Lola's heart was thudding at an alarming rate in her chest, threatening to burst out of her ribcage. Her eyes were trained to the television screen but all she could think about was Bucky's fingers on her skin. God, even his hands felt muscled and powerful. They glided effortlessly up and down her calves, as he inched them further and further up her legs, agonisingly slowly. His eyes had darkened, and he cast a smouldering gaze up at her that only fueled the heat pooling between her legs.

Swallowing nervously, she quickly looked back up at the television screen as her fingers played with the hem of her sweater.

A hoarse " _fuck"_ was all Lola heard, before Bucky lunged at her, covering her small body with his large one. She could feel all his hard muscles through the thin fabric of t-shirt. His fingers were digging urgently into her hips as he crashed his lips down on hers. Her eyes widened as he moaned into her mouth, her fingers scrabbling at his shirt. He kissed her deeper, his tongue diving past her lips when she gasped. Thrashing beneath him, she reached up a hand and slapped his face with a force that reverberated around the apartment.

" _Shit_! The hell was that for, sweetheart?" Bucky gasped, rubbing his now very red cheek.

Lola screamed in frustration, shoving him off herself.

"You kissed me!" she hissed, throwing the empty pizza box at him.

He batted it away and stared at her, completely gobsmacked.

"Oh shit." he realised. "You're bein' serious, aren't you?"

"What else would I be, you complete asshole?!"

"I dunno, kinky or somethin'."

"God, you are so _infuriating_!" she screamed, repeatedly hitting him with a cushion, as he held up his arms in defence. "Is that why you came over? You thought you could just charm me with your soccer talk and your stupid pizza? And I would just jump into bed with you?"

"I thought- "

"You thought _wrong_! Now get out!"

"Alright, alright, I'm leavin'!" he said quickly, vaulting over the couch as Lola stood up angrily and watched him unlatch the front door. He turned around and looked at her.

"Doll, could I at least have that leather jacket ba-"

"GET OUT!" she yelled, throwing the remote control in his direction.

He ducked and quickly slipped out the door, just as Natasha walked through. She glanced over her shoulder and then raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell was that?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: But, she's touching his chest now**

Dottie lounged lazily on the kitchen counter, twirling an unlit cigarette between her fingers as she sipped on her black coffee. Bucky, dressed in just a pair of boxers and an old Coney Island t-shirt, was at the stove, flipping an omelette. The television was on; switched to ESPN. He pretended to be absorbed in it, drowning out the sound of Dottie's voice as she drawled on about something, probably a bitchy comment about her neighbour, Peggy, or whatever her name was. She was old and British, a retired teacher, that was all he knew.

"Hey!" cried Dottie, snapping her fingers.

"Huh?"

"Were you even listening to a word I said?"

"Yeah, sure I was." Bucky lied, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

She cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes at him.

"What's gotten into you, stud?"

"Nothin'." he replied defensively, pulling out a bar stool and sitting down.

"Oh really?" she challenged, stretching her legs out across his lap. "The last time you were this doe-eyed that Vivian had just broken your heart. So, who is it this time?"

"No-one's broken my heart, Dot." he scoffed, scraping his fork loudly on his plate.

"Mm, true. That would imply you have a heart to begin with." she said thoughtfully and he rolled his eyes. "Do I at least get a name?"

Her question was met with silence and she sighed dramatically; jumping down from the kitchen counter and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Fine, ignore me. But tonight, we're going out after your match. Don't argue, I'm doing this as your friend. A few drinks, a dance or two. You'll forget all about Miss. Whatever-her-name-is."

* * *

Lola interlaced her fingers as she stared at her laptop screen, willing the words to write themselves. Her article on Bucky had been a huge hit, much more than anticipated. She'd received a small cheer from everyone at the office the first Monday back after it had been published. Barton, had called her into his office again, this time to congratulate her. Well, in his own way, of course. His resting face was murderous at the best of times, so she had to convince herself that he really meant the positive feedback coming out of his mouth.

Now that he was much more confident in her abilities, he decided to increase her workload, asking her to fill in the Sports department while Vis was still on leave with his broken ankle. It wasn't exactly the career path she had originally envisaged, but she took it. Extra hours were dedicated to watching any and every sport she could. Jarvis had taught her cricket and tennis statistics, and a little about rowing which was very popular during the summer in England. She was following ESPN on Twitter now, and had subscribed to a football magazine. Natasha had even found her watching Bucky's soccer games live a few nights ago, teasing her about it mercilessly. But Lola didn't have time to think about Bucky, or anyone else for that matter. She was on the career path, and very determined about it.

Natasha glanced up from her desk, and quickly wheeled her chair over to Lola.

"Sexy soccer guy at ten o'clock!" she whispered, and Lola's eyes widened at the prospect of Bucky turning up to her workplace announced. She peered through her eyelashes into blue eyes and smiled, visibly relaxing.

"Captain America. What in the world are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard one of my old friends works here." chuckled Steve, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Feeling a prickle on his neck he turned around to see a huddle of women ogling him from a cubicle. Blushing profusely, he turned back to Lola.

"Thought I'd stop by and ask if she wants to hang out tonight."

"Don't you have a game tonight?" she asked, smiling gratefully at Natasha who put down a cup of coffee on her desk. Steve chuckled again.

"You're really taking this job seriously, huh?"

"Not all of us can kick a ball around for a living." she grinned at him over the rim of her cup. He grinned and took a small step back.

"After the game. Josie's."

"Just like old times." she laughed.

"Just like old times." he repeated, waving at Natasha as he retreated back to the elevator.

Natasha Romanoff, ever the secret agent, was eager for her best friend to divulge all her secrets regarding Steve Rogers. She sprawled across the bed later that evening, as Lola dug through her closet for a change of clothes.

"He's just an old friend." she shrugged, wiggling into a pair of skinny black biker jeans. "We knew each other when we were kids."

"Oh, please." scoffed Natasha. "There is no way you can be _just old friends_ with a guy like _that_."

Lola buried her face in her wardrobe to hide her blush.

"You should have seen him when he was younger." she called over her shoulder, slipping into a pale pink camisole. "He was tiny, and so _skinny_."

"Well, puberty clearly blessed him."

"It didn't just bless him, it hit him like a truck." laughed Lola, turning back around. "Do you think this is too slutty?"

"Yes, but in a high class escort kind of way." answered Natasha, as she sauntered out the room. "Don't forget to use protection!"

"I am not sleeping with him!" she shouted back, digging through the growing pile of clothes at the bottom of the wardrobe for a jacket.

A sudden whiff of sex and charm hit her, as her fingers pulled out Bucky's leather jacket. Biting her bottom lip, she glanced around to make sure Natasha had left the room, before quickly sliding it on and facing the mirror. It actually looked _really_ _good_. His jacket completed her look; the right amount of too big. But there was no way she could wear it. It wasn't hers, and more specifically, _he_ wasn't hers. Not to mention that Steve would be able to tell straight away.

Shrugging it off, she took one last sniff before putting it back in her wardrobe- except this time, she hung it up neatly behind all her other coats.

Josie's hadn't aged a day. It was still dark and grimy, with the regular biker gang sitting by the pinball machine. A huge American flag- presumably the only clean thing in the entirety of the place- hung on the wall behind the bar, and the patron, Josie, would stop every now and then to make sure it was straight. A group of college students were in the corner by the jukebox, two of the girls bickering over what song to play.

Steve waved at Lola from a table near the bar, and she smiled back as she joined him.

"I hope you don't mind, I ordered you a drink." said Steve, standing up to hug Lola.

"Cheap beer, my favourite." she laughed, hanging her jacket on her stool.

"Josie's finest."

"So, Captain. Shouldn't you be out celebrating the victory with your team?" she mused, sipping her beer.

"You saw the game?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Steve!"

"You used to hate it back when I made you watch a game."

"Well, now it keeps a roof over my head." she shrugged, resting her chin in her palm and smiling at him.

"Yeah? That your only incentive?" quipped Steve, a sly grin on his face.

"Well, my morning coffee _is_ a necessity. Can't function without it." she joked, and Steve hung his head, chuckling to himself.

Lola took a sip of her beer and studied Steve, trying to grasp the expression on his face.

"Why, what other incentive would I have?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Steve choked on his beer, spluttering left, right, and centre.

"Oh, no. I was, just, I mean, you- "

"I'm just joking Steve." she laughed good naturedly, and he smiled meekly back at her, before clearing his throat.

"So, uh, your boyfriend not mind me stealing you for the night? Pietro, right?"

"Where I go and who I go with is no longer his business." she replied simply, taking a big gulp of her beer. Steve looked at her apologetically and she snorted. "Oh, come on. I know I stay out of the spotlight but even _Hello_ magazine picked up on that one. Although, I am glad someone got pictures of me and Nat that night at Marquee because we both looked _hot_."

"Yeah, well, you know me. Clubs aren't really my scene."

"Steve? The hell you doin' in this shithole? Not exactly date material." came a voice, and Lola didn't even need to look to know who it was.

 _Bucky_. He was wearing _those_ jeans again, the ones that seemed to proudly display his powerful thighs. His sweater stretched tautly against the expanse of his chest, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. His smile dropped when Lola turned around to face him.

"Say, fancy seeing you here, doll." he said with false cheer.

"I could say the same thing about you." she smiled.

"When you said you were seein' a girl tonight, didn't think you meant her, pal." Bucky remarked, his eyes boring into Steve.

"Why wouldn't he be seeing me?" challenged Lola, picking up her beer. Bucky's eyes briefly glanced at her wrapping her lips around the neck of the bottle, and he opened his mouth to retort.

" _There_ you are." trilled a voice. "God, I can't believe you dragged me to this… whatever. It's gross. Can't we go to that new champagne bar instead?"

A tall, slender woman with auburn hair stopped by Bucky, linking her arm through his as she looked around with disgust. Following his gaze, she gave a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, hi, Steve. I didn't see you there."

"Hi, Dot. Nice to see you again." Steve smiled politely, nodding his head at her.

"So sweet as always." she trilled, turning to Lola and looking her up and down. "And who are you?"

"Lola. It's nice to meet you."

"Pleasure." replied Dottie shortly, turning back to Bucky. "Is this why you wanted to come here? Because your best friend is here?"

"Happy coincidence." he answered, still staring at Lola. She blushed, but stared defiantly back. "Mind if we join you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Bucky pulled out a barstool and threw himself down on it. Lola cleared her throat and shifted her stool away from him and closer to Steve. Her knee brushed Steve's, and he jumped, shyly smiling back at her as Dottie hesitantly took the remaining seat. A an awkward silence ensued, as they all looked round at each other. Unable to stand it any longer, Lola stood up abruptly.

"I'll get us another drink." she told Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder. He objected but she insisted, seeing as he bought the first round.

"I'll join you." stated Bucky, jumping up and hurrying after Lola.

"I want a cocktail!" Dottie screeched at his back.

Lola leant on the bar, waving for Josie's attention. Bucky stood next to her, his back to the bar as he leant back on his elbows. She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow boredly as he grinned cheekily down at her.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"Nothin', doll. Just enjoyin' the view." he smirked, his eyes glancing down.

The way she was leaning on the bar with her arms crossed had pulled down her camisole, her breasts pushed up enough to get his attention. Flushing strawberry red, she straightened up and held out cash for Josie, taking the two beers off the counter.

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. A beautiful woman in a bar- why are you surprised?"

"I'm not _surprised_. I'd just rather be hit on by anyone that's not you." she snapped, as he ordered a beer for himself, and a cocktail for Dottie.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't the whole truth. There was something about the way his eyes drifted over her that made every inch of her blush madly. She certainly hadn't felt that with Steve.

"Yeah? Say, Steve, maybe?" he suggested, trying to play it cool as they headed back to their table.

It was if he could read her mind. He wasn't nearly as good an actor as he thought he was, though. She simply gave him a look as if to say; ' _wouldn't you like to know?'._

"What is this?" demanded Dottie, as Bucky set her pathetic excuse for a cocktail down on the table.

She prodded the straw with a finger and squealed when something inside the grimy glass moved. Lola exchanged a giggle with Steve. Dottie shot her a glare and she pursed her lips.

"You have to get to the bottom." offered Lola, and Dottie raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "The challenge is to drink it all and see what's at the bottom of the glass. It's like a Josie speciality." she explained, but Dottie looked less than impressed.

"What exactly _is_ at the bottom?" she pressed, and Steve chuckled.

"There's no way she knows. Remember the last time you tried one of those?" he laughed, nudging Lola, who laughed and hid her face in her hands.

"I'm not sure I want to remember! That was so embarrassing!"

"Care to tell us _what_ was so embarrassing?" interjected Bucky, looking awkwardly between them.

Lola turned pink and held up a finger threateningly.

"No, Steve. You promised you wouldn't tell."

"In hindsight, I was drunk and stupid when I made that promise. The one story that might actually make me look good in front of the guys." he teased, earning himself a gentle punch.

"Shut up." mumbled Lola, exchanging a glance with him.

They both burst into laughter again and Bucky gulped down half of his beer in one go.

"Just pace yourself." she advised, nodding at Dottie's cocktail. "That thing is deceptively alcoholic."

"So, Dot, was it? How did you and Bucky meet?" asked Lola, smiling politely as she tried to make conversation.

Dottie smiled proudly and put a perfectly manicured hand on Bucky's arm.

"Oh, we go quite the way back."

"Yeah, we're good friends." said Bucky quickly.

"Well, there are some _benefits_ to being his friend. If you get my drift." giggled Dottie. "How do you and Steve know each other?"

"My mom was her nanny." explained Steve, rolling his bottle between his hands.

"Means I got to see America's dreamboat before all the muscles." teased Lola, smiling good-naturedly at Steve. He sighed and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Gee, thanks, Lola."

"Hey, I never said you weren't cute. In fact, I think I remember specifically telling you that."

Steve looked back at Lola, who was smiling cheekily at him. His poker face lasted all about two seconds, before he was smiling too. Then the song changed, and Lola was squealing, grabbing his hand and urging him to get up.

"God, Lola, no. I can't dance." he insisted, refusing to budge.

"Yes, you can! You love this song! We've danced to it before!"

"I was drunk! And younger!"

"So, we'll get you a shot. Come on, Captain America! Shut up and dance with me! Just like the song says to!" she urged, and Steve relented with a sigh, letting himself be dragged into the small crowd that was going crazy at the song.

Bucky drowned the rest of his beer, spinning round to watch Lola dance with sheer joy on her face, not a care in the world as she strutted her stuff to Walk the Moon. She gave a whole new meaning to 'dance like no-one's watching'; not that she was a bad dancer. She was actually very good, and she looked so happy, with her hair flying this way and that. There was a moment where she looked at Bucky, a smile on her face, and as much as it pained him to admit, he swore he felt something swoop in his chest.

Steve, on the other hand, was terrible. He'd had two left feet ever since Bucky had known him, and he looked so awkward dancing with Lola. She tried to encourage him, taking his hands and showing him how to move his body, but the otherwise deft soccer player simply stumbled about, apologising whenever he treaded on her toes.

A frown crossed Bucky's face, as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. There was an odd feeling stirring in his stomach. It felt like… a stab of _jealousy_. Towards his _best friend_. Sure, he had seen Steve receive plenty of attention from the ladies before, but not like this. Usually Steve was awkward and shy, but here he was, laughing at his own dance moves (he looked like a dad at a barbeque) and he looked _happy_. With a girl _he_ liked. And he realised he did like her; otherwise he wouldn't have felt so bad about pouncing on her the other night. That and her smile was infectious, the way she laughed as she moved to the song.

Dottie dared to try her drink, gagging and it pushing it away from her the moment the taste hit her. She narrowed her eyes at Bucky, who was staring dreamily off towards the dancefloor. Rolling her eyes, she leant forward.

"They've slept together." she said bluntly, and he whirled round to stare at her indecorously.

"Say what now?"

"Oh, come on, stud. It's obvious." she giggled girlishly, sighing when Bucky looked at her blankly. "Think about it, Steve doesn't tell you he's meeting her, in a skeevy bar of all places that they used to go back in the day. He blushes like a schoolboy every time she smiles at him. There's a story that makes him ' _look good in front of the guys_ '. The list is endless really."

His stomach in knots, he turned around as the song ended and Lola steadied herself by placing a hand on Steve's chest. Steve was bright red in the face, but there was no denying the big grin that sat there. She stood up on her toes to say something in his ear, and he nodded, taking her hand and leading her back to the table. Ignoring the jealousy bubbling away in his blood, he forced a smile.

"Didn't know you danced, pal." said Bucky amusedly, as Steve smiled awkwardly, unsure if he should be pleased with himself or embarrassed by his two left feet.

Steve shook his head at his best friend, and placed a gentle hand on Lola's lower back.

"I'll go get us something to drink. Can I get you two anything? Buck? Dot?" he offered, and the pair declined.

Lola exhaled and sat down at the table again, evidently much happier.

"Not many girls who could get Captain Rogers to dance, you know." commented Bucky and Lola laughed.

"Well, he just can't say no to me."

"Wouldn't be the first time." muttered Dottie, and Bucky kicked her under the table.

She yelped and crossed her arms, as he raised an eyebrow and angled his head towards Lola, who was oblivious and swaying to the music.

The table shifted as Steve rejoined the group, placing a beer down in front of Lola. She smiled gratefully, taking a healthy sip of her beer. The song changed again and Lola tapped the table excitedly.

"Steve, it's _Shakira_ , we have to dance!"

"No, no, no. I draw the line there."

"Oh, please! Dot, what about you? Wanna go show the boys how our hips don't lie?"

"I think I'll just watch."

"Suit yourselves." she shrugged, bouncing off back to the dancefloor.

Lola didn't have a care in the world. It had been a long week, no, _two_ long weeks. Work had been pushing her to the limit; Thor had really upped the ante during their workout sessions; and her mind had spent more time than she would care to admit occupied with Bucky. So, it really didn't matter that she was getting tipsy off cheap beer and dancing in the middle of sweaty bikers and drunk students. Shakira was her _jam_. And she was going to shake her ass like the lady herself. Or at least try to; she could feel two pairs of blue eyes watching her intently. Why had she felt like she was here on a date with Steve? And why had it felt like she'd been caught red-handed when Bucky appeared out of nowhere?

The song changed again; the crowd roaring as the universally-known Mr. Brightside came on. Still feeling giddy with excitement, she cheered happily too. A man accidentally knocked into her, and she almost went flying, but, as if at the speed of lightning, Steve was there to catch her. _Whoa_ , _get a feel of those muscles_. Shamelessly, she clung on to Steve as she steadied herself. He blushed again, but flashed her a grin, his hands wrapped firmly around her waist. Biting back a giggle, Lola whipped around to face the culprit. A tall man with dark floppy hair and red glasses. He clutched his cane in his hand, apologising endlessly until his two friends, a man and a woman, assured him that his victim actually wasn't mad at him.

When the song ended, Lola found her way back to the table, her small hand in Steve's large one.

"Where's Dottie?" she asked, catching her breath.

"She left." answered Bucky, his blue eyes glinting at her in the semi-darkness.

"Oh." she had no idea why she blushed, but she hoped to pass it off as a result of her dance moves. "That's a shame, she didn't get to see what's at the bottom of her drink."

"Please don't tell me you're offering." Groaned Steve.

"I have no plans to get drunk tonight." She laughed, hugging Steve reassuringly.

"Aw, you're so much fun when you're drunk." pouted Bucky.

"You've seen her drunk?" asked Steve, and Lola promptly turned a deep shade of red.

"Yeah, at Marquee. Sam and I tried to get you to come with, pal."

"Clubs aren't really my scene."

"Don't knock it 'til you tried it. Meet all sorts of pretty dames." winked Bucky, and Lola cleared her throat pointedly.

"Speaking of pretty dames, I think I'm ready to call it a night." she said loudly, looping her arm through Steve's. He nodded and stood up, Bucky pushing his stool back abruptly.

"I'm pretty beat." said Bucky, feigning a yawn. "I'll go get us a cab." he disappeared through the crowd; Lola exchanged a look with Steve.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea he was going to be here." apologised Steve, holding up her jacket.

"It's okay. I still had a good time." she replied, sliding her arms into the sleeves. "I'm surprised it's not happened sooner, actually. You never used to shut up about him when we were kids."

"Yeah, well, he's my friend." laughed Steve nervously.

"And so am I." she smiled back, thanking him as he opened the door for her.

"Maybe, but maybe you- "

"There you guys are!" cried Bucky, leaning on a waiting cab. "Shit, thought I needed to send in a search party or somethin'."

There was an awkward silence in the back of the cab. Lola found herself wedged in the middle, Steve on her right and Bucky on her left. Not that it was the worst scenario in the world. After all, would any sane person really complain about pounds of muscles squeezing them like that? And very attractive pounds of muscles too. Surely, it was another sick joke from God. On her right sat Steve, America's golden boy. He was so good and kind; her oldest friend and a man who truly cared about her. She wouldn't so far as to say they had a history, but there was something unfinished there. He was safe and comfortable, like Tony's MIT sweater she had grown up in. Then there was the man on her left, Bucky. He was new and exciting, he made her feel so alive. Despite the arrogant playboy he loved to roleplay, she couldn't help but feel something for him.

Oh God. How the hell had she found herself in this situation?

Those cheap beers suddenly felt like they were going to come right back up again, and Lola was grateful when the cab lurched to a halt.

"Thanks, I had a great time." she muttered, scrambling over Bucky to get out the cab.

"I'll walk you up." replied Bucky and Steve in unison. Lola hopped out the cab and looked between them.

"Oh no." she refused, holding her hands up. "Not you two."

"Lola," asked Steve, his brows furrowed back into his usual concern. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy. Um, good night."

And with that, Lola dashed into her building, breathing heavily as the elevator doors closed. Steve climbed back into the cab, where an awkward silence met him. Bucky looked down at his clasped hands.

"So, uh, she sure keeps things interestin' huh?"

"She sure does, Buck. She sure does."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: They call her love, love, love**

Lola decided that this was one of her favourite things. That was, the sheer abundance of independent coffee shops that peppered New York. Sure, there was Starbucks on every corner of the crowded city, but truth be told, she was a coffee snob. Coffee that was available at the press of a button made her gag. But a fresh, hand-crafted cup of caffeine, now that was sure to hit the spot every time. Besides, she liked trying out the different roasts and blends. Fancying herself a bit of a coffee connoisseur, she settled on her favourite joint of the lot, a steaming flat white beside her laptop as she began planning her next article.

Throwing herself back into work had been the only way to stay sane. If she didn't keep busy, her mind would wander back to Bucky and Steve, and just the thought of two handsome men, just as different as they were the same, would start to drive her crazy.

Steve had texted, of course, and at first she simply couldn't bring herself to reply. It was in his nature to persist, though, and his worrying was very obvious. In the end, out of pity, and in an attempt to maintain the facade that all was well, a reply had been texted back. Bucky, on the other hand, wasn't in possession of her number. And really, she thought it was for the best.

It was going to be hard to avoid either of the two men forever; especially as Clint wanted her to start attending the home games with a photographer. She had been presented with a ticket for the following weekend, as well as a Press Pass that granted her access to all areas. She would have to get the quote of the Captain and the team's top scorer, that much was for sure. In both cases, she would have to come face to face with Steve and Bucky. And she really didn't want to be one of _those_ journalists.

The Christine Everhart kind, that was. She shuddered as the image of the blonde Vanity Fair columnist wearing nothing but one of Tony's shirts popped up in her head. It had been a very traumatic moment for sixteen-year-old Lola. Thank God that Tony's assistant, Pepper Potts, had been there to 'take out the trash' as she had amusingly put it.

Taking a snap of her coffee to post on Instagram; Lola turned back to her laptop, looking through the notes Vis had sent her. Initially, he hadn't been too pleased to have a new addition to the team, but when he realised that she was serious about her work, he had given her the benefit of the doubt. Even if his constructive criticism bordered more on criticism than constructive.

"'Scuse me ma'am; is this seat taken?"

 _Shit_. Lola looked up, her brown eyes meeting a pair of blue ones. There was certainly a cheeky streak in them, but his smile was genuine. Weakly smiling back, she gestured at the chair in front of her.

"Be my guest."

"Now, what's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this?"

"You know I'm not going to indulge your flirting, right?"

"Worth a shot." he chuckled. "But, it is nice to bump into you. Again."

"Careful, Bucky. One more time and I might think you're stalking me."

"Hey, for all I know, you're stalkin' me, doll."

"Right. That sounds so believable." she laughed, propping an elbow on the table.

"Don't ruin the fantasy!" gasped Bucky, putting a hand on his chest. "It's my dream to be chased by a beautiful woman!"

"Well, you're not short of them." she stated, glancing at the table where a group of girls were pointing and whispering at Bucky.

She took a sip of her coffee and looked at him in amusement. Grinning, Bucky turned around and waved at the girls. They immediately screamed and began squabbling over a tube of lipstick.

Lola rolled her eyes and turned back to her laptop.

"Say, what you workin' on over there?"

"You." replied Lola. Bucky grinned and she quickly turned as red as as the stripes on the American flag. "I mean something I'm going to ask you."

"If it's a date, my answer's yes, doll."

"No." she mumbled, willing her face to calm down. "Interview questions to ask you after the match."

"Lola Stark." grinned Bucky, crossing his arms and leaning forward. "Are you tellin' me, you're comin' to one of my games?"

"I'm not coming for _you_."

"You will be." he winked, and she sighed in frustration, crouching as far down as she could behind her laptop screen.

Lola resumed editing her notes; taking a peek at Bucky when there was no noise. He was sitting quite serenely, taking in the busy coffee shop around him. Perhaps he needed to rethink the motorcycle jacket and turtleneck combination he had going on; but that stubble and the fluffy hair skimming his jawline she was itching to ruffle still made him incredibly attractive. Not to mention that damn cologne she could smell over the arabica beans and danish pastries. It was all too perfect, and she resisted the urge to snap a picture of what was the ideal Instagram moment.

"What's the offside rule?" asked Lola, snapping Bucky out of his daze.

He turned back to her, a dreamy look in his baby blue eyes.

"Sorry, doll?"

"The offside rule. I'm still not sure what it is."

"You been writin' all these sweet articles and you don't know the offside rule?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "How 'bout I go get a coffee, and give you the inside scoop?"

Lola nodded gratefully, and he hopped off to join the queue, smiling at the group of girls as he passed their table. They squealed excitedly, prodding and poking one another, before one finally plucked up the courage and lead them over to him. Lola rolled her eyes as a blonde swished her hair and batted her eyelashes at him. Bucky politely indulged them, making small conversation as he waited for his coffee. The blonde stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm. Lola pursed her lips. _I'm not jealous. I am so not jealous_. She jumped when Bucky slid down in the seat beside her.

Lola moved further up the bench to make room for all six-foot, several hundred pounds of muscle of him. There was plenty of space, but he chose to squeeze up close to her as possible, their knees brushing. The group of fangirls were back at their table now, ogling him again, the blonde staring at Lola with a deathly glare.

"Any reason your number one fan looks ready to drown me in her frappuccino?"

"She asked me out." shrugged Bucky, popping a straw into his iced americano.

Lola gawked at him.

"And you said _no_?"

"I don't date fans." he replied simply, and she sensed there was more to the story, but she didn't press him any further. "Besides, I told her I was here with you. Real rude of me to skip out with some other broad."

"But… we're not on a date?" she mused. _I wouldn't mind if we were, though._

"She don't know that, do she?" he winked, sipping his coffee.

Lola blushed and swung round to face him properly.

"Okay, offside rule. Go." she ordered and he hummed in approval at his iced coffee.

Setting it down on the table, he turned round to face her too.

"Offside rule. Right. A player is in an offside position if he's closer to his opponent's goal than both the ball and the second last opponent." he explained, and she looked at him blankly.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"Offside. I'd be offside if I was up close and personal with the other team's net, and the soccer ball's way behind and there's only one opponent in front of me."

"So the rule only applies to you? A striker?"

"Nah, it's for everyone. Striker, midfielder, position don't matter, doll. Well, in the bedroom position's everything..."

"Bucky!"

"Sorry, sorry! Alright, uh, let's get some visuals, doll."

Ten minutes later, Lola was hunched over the table, her laptop shifted to the side as a makeshift goal net. Bucky was looking at her expectantly. She took a deep breath and glanced at the table one final time.

"My flat white is offside if it's closer to my laptop and the spoon than my lipstick and your iced coffee." she stated and Bucky nodded.

"'Cause…"

"Because my flat white is you, the lipstick is the soccer ball, the spoon is the goalkeeper, and your iced coffee is the second-last opponent."

"Yes! Yes! You got it, doll!" cheered Bucky and Lola screamed delightedly, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

She laughed happily into his shoulder, and he grinned to himself, that familiar smell of coconut shampoo and perfume enveloping him. Letting his hands linger a little longer than necessary, he felt her relax into his embrace. _Hugging a girl should not feel this good_.

Reluctantly, they both pulled away when it became painfully obvious they'd held each other too long. Oddly enough, when they exchanged sweet, shy smiles, something had changed, even if they didn't know it. Bucky swept his hair back and grinned at Lola.

"So, uh, think you got it, doll."

"Well, I had a pretty good teacher."

"Didn't I tell you that you'd be a soccer pro by the time I'm finished with you?"

"Three years in England couldn't make me love the game and you think you can?" she teased, and he blinked.

"You were in England for three years?"

"Yeah, I studied at Cambridge." she admitted and his jaw dropped.

"Ignorin' the fact that just proves what a smartass you are; are you really tellin' me you were in a soccer lovin' country for three goddamn years and you know shit all 'bout the beautiful game?"

"Hey, I was busy with the other sports they play over there, okay?"

"Like?"

"Rugby." she answered triumphantly, crossing her arms and smiling at him. He mirrored her, crossing his arms and smirking back.

"Can't imagine why rugby would take your fancy, sweetheart. Oh, that's right. The players…" he teased, wiping the smile off her face as a bright red blush took its place. "Come on, out with it."

"Am I really that obvious?"

"Nah, I was takin' a guess but your blush gave it away." he chuckled, draping an arm around her shoulders.

Trying not to blush any harder at the feel of his arm wrapped around her, Lola cringed and buried her face in her hands. Bucky chuckled again and pulled her closer.

"Oh, come on. I wanna hear all about your crazy college days!"

"What makes you think I was crazy?" she challenged, and he cocked his head to the side; as if surveying her.

Her skin tingled as his blue eyes feasted over her. She wished she had put in a little more effort, but something about the way he smirked at her suggested he liked her distressed jeans and white t-shirt. Simple, but sexy.

"Just a hunch, doll."

"You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

"On the contrary, I think there's more to you than meets the eye."

"Oh yeah?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You made it your mission to figure me out?"

"If you'll let me."

"Are you going to stop flirting with me?" posed Lola, her eyes watching him beadily.

"Nah. You're hot." Bucky replied, positively aghast at the thought. "But, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour. Just for you, doll."

"There's something else you can do. Just for me." she simpered, peering up at him through her eyelashes. His Adam's Apple bobbed up and down as she ran a hand over his arm.

"Yeah? What's that, doll?" he asked. She grinned and held up her empty cup.

"Get me another flat white?"

Bucky smiled weakly and went back to the counter to order her coffee. _Two can play that game Mr. Barnes._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: How do we call this love?**

The soccer arena loomed majestically, lit spectacularly against the inky blue New York sky. With every step closer, it grew in size. It truly was an impressive structure, and the atmosphere surrounding it was magical. There were fans as far as the eye could see, decked in New York Red Bulls' gear; scarves, t-shirts, and even hats. Some carried bags from the souvenir shop, while others were busy arming themselves with hot dogs and beers. The faint melody of Maroon 5's Sugar could be heard echoing through the arena's speakers. There was nothing quite like it.

"Stark!"

"Huh?"

"You weren't listening, were you?"

"Sorry, sweetie." apologised Lola.

She tore her gaze away from the arena and picked her jaw up from the ground. The intern smiled and glanced at the arena.

"Can't blame you. It's pretty sick."

"Sick? Are you okay, Peter?" she asked worriedly, checking to see if he had a fever.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Sick means like, cool!" he laughed, as he pushed Lola off him and she rolled her eyes as she headed towards the press entrance.

"Come on, Parker! You've got photographs to take!"

Flashing their press passes at the security guard, Lola and Peter made their way down the corridor. It was both exciting and terrifying, passing the likes of ESPN and other big names in sports broadcast journalism. Peter almost dropped his camera, when the chairman of the New York Red Bulls appeared out of nowhere, his long leather jacket swishing behind him.

"Holy shit! You're Nick Fury!" he exclaimed, catching his camera in the nick of time.

Fury arched an eyebrow behind his opaque black sunglasses. Rumour had it he was missing an eyeball. The story went that back when he was a soccer player, someone's soccer boot had caught him in the eye, the stud pulling his eyeball clean out. That was why he wore sunglasses everywhere he went.

Peter quickly apologised to Nick Fury now, telling Lola he was going to wait at the players' entrance and see if he could get any photos of the players as they arrived. As he scooted off, Fury cleared his throat and held a hand out to Lola. She quickly shook it and flashed him a smile.

"Hello, Mr. Fury. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm- "

"I know exactly who you are, Miss. Stark." he interrupted, his lips curling into a smile momentarily.

She got the feeling he was eyeing her beadily from behind his dark sunglasses.

"I know who a lot of people are. Especially the ones who write nice things about my team."

"You read my article on Bucky? I mean, James Barnes."

"I know you're on a nickname basis, Miss. Stark. Of course, I would be too, if I was having coffee with America's rising soccer star."

"How- "

"How do I know you two had coffee? Just because you can't find me on Instagram, Miss. Stark, doesn't mean I'm not on it." he replied shortly, before spinning around and walking away.

She stared at his retreating back, unsure of how to process her first encounter with Nick Fury. How did a man who liked to lead a quiet life know so much?

"Don't take it too personal, doll. He said the same thing to me."

Lola whipped around, coming face to face with Bucky. He was sporting a cheeky grin, as he draped his headphones around his neck and dropped his sports holdall to the ground. He held out his arms and blinked at her.

"What, don't I get a hug, sugar?"

"Hm, I don't know. Fury might think we're married." she teased. "Besides, I'm here on a strictly professional basis. It's nice to see you again after our interview, Mr. Barnes."

"Nice to see you too, Miss. Stark." chuckled Bucky, shaking her offered hand.

He couldn't resist but pull at it, kissing her flushed cheeks when she fell against his chest, her hands firmly pressed to the hard muscle there. It had to be illegal for someone to feel this good. She pressed her fingers a little harder, pretending to steady herself. But, he noticed of course. He winked at her, as her cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

Moments like these made Lola second-guess being 'friends' with Bucky. It seemed that their coffee shop date (not that it was a date, she explained to a sceptical Natasha Romanoff) had truly broken the ice. Of course, he was a flirt and most likely always would be, but she had gradually come to accept that. Especially as she had seen a softer side to him.

He had bought them both a second coffee, and then they opted for some raspberry and vanilla tea, as not to overdose on the caffeine. Before they knew it, hours had passed as they sat close to one another, in a busy New York coffee shop, laughing and sharing stories. There was a soft side to the big bad soccer star after all.

No, no, no. Lola firmly told herself that as nice as he was, and as desperately as she wanted to rip his clothes off and see all that muscle for herself, just friends was exactly where they should stay. Anything more than that was a one way trip, and with no refunds or exchanges, she just couldn't afford it. After the Pietro problem, she wasn't sure her heart could take it. Getting involved with an emotionally unavailable man was something she just couldn't do. So, friendship it was.

The pair had exchanged numbers, and rare messages had soon turned into a game of text message tennis. Although Bucky wouldn't dare to admit it, seeing Lola's name pop up on his screen made him smile from ear to ear. He couldn't- no, _refused_ to- remember the last time he felt like _this_ about a girl. Girls were trouble, all they wanted was their thirty seconds of fame and honestly, he spent half his time wondering if they were even attracted to him at all; or if it was just his money and status. The last girl who had convinced him she loved him… he didn't like to think about her.

Yet, there was a small voice in the back of his head that told him that maybe, just maybe, he was being too judgemental far too quickly. After all, what use was his fame and money for Lola Stark? She had plenty of that, more than him even, all of her own accord. Not that she was interested in him- hadn't she rejected him enough to bruise his pride? Sure, he had noticed her cheeks were permanently blushed around him, but his flirting did that to women. It didn't mean she had any feelings for him.

"Lola?" said a voice, snapping her and Bucky apart.

"Hey, Steve." She answered, a smile appearing on her face as she turned around to face the blonde bulk of a man.

It had been a while since she had seen him, and she scolded herself for neglecting him. He popped his earphones out of his ears as he glanced at the blush she was trying desperately to calm. His blonde brows furrowed, as he did his best to smile.

"Buck." Nodded Steve, as if he hadn't been sat next to best friend on the team bus for the last half an hour.

And that was when Lola remembered why she had been off the grid. There was now a sudden gust of awkwardness that swept over them, and she felt that familiar suffocation from Josie's come flooding back.

"Steve," grinned Bucky. "You get lost on the bus, man?"

"Couldn't steal your spotlight could I? All those photographers were waiting for you."

"Punk." chuckled Bucky good naturedly.

"Jerk." Steve grinned back.

Lola let out a sigh of relief. She refused to believe she was in a love triangle. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lola smiled sweetly at Bucky.

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Anythin' for you, sugar."

"My intern's waiting in the players' tunnel. You can't miss him; he's half the size of everyone else and has more energy than a Duracell battery. Let him get a few good photos of you?"

"Sounds swell. Buy me a coffee again and we'll call it quits." Bucky flashed a wink at her, before clapping a hand to Steve's shoulder and strutting off down the corridor.

"You guys had coffee?" blurted Steve. He was surprised, to say the least, but he hadn't meant to sound as accusatory as he did. "I mean, it's good you're getting along." he quickly corrected himself, pursing his lips apologetically as Lola peered at him curiously.

She relaxed a little and swivelled on her heel, Steve falling into step beside her as they walked deeper into the arena.

"I think I judged him a little too harshly." she admitted, digging her reporter's notebook out of her bag. "I mean, he's Captain America's best friend. He can't be that bad."

"Yeah, Bucky's a good friend." he chuckled. "My best friend."

"And you never thought to introduce us." she teased, as they came to a halt by the players' tunnel.

There was a murmur amongst the other photographers there, as the cameras turned on them. Feeling uncomfortable, Lola hid behind her hair and rolled her eyes at Steve.

"Save your post match comments for me?"

"Always."

* * *

"Captain America. Wow. Huge fan. I mean, Captain America!"

"You've said that ten times in the last five minutes, Parker."

"Yeah, sorry. Can't help it, I'm a- "

"Huge fan."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward silence as Peter mimed zipping his lips. Bringing his camera up to his face, he fiddled with some buttons as he set about photographing the players warming up before the match. Lola eyed him warily, before turning back to her notebook. She flipped through the notes she had scribbled down; facts and figures of both teams. Vision had a whole world of knowledge stored in his brain, which was wonderful as it meant less trawling through the archives. She had copied down as much as she could, as she was desperate for this to go well.

Yet, there was a small part of Lola that wanted to impress more than just her boss, or her biggest critics. Her eyes glanced up, straying from her notes to Bucky as he stood next to one of his teammates, his legs wide apart as he stretched, the muscles of his thighs on full display. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips as she unabashedly admired his form. They didn't call it the beautiful for game for nothing.

Catching her gaze, Bucky flashed a smile at her and she smiled back, lifting her hand in a wave. He winked and she felt her whole body heat up in the cool air. Flushing even harder out of embarrassment, she didn't think it was possible to be any redder than she was.

Until Steve popped up behind Bucky. Thinking the wave was meant for him, he visibly brightened, his own hand raised as he waved delightedly at Lola. She couldn't help but smile at his warmth. Both boys beamed at her, both blissfully unaware of each other. A roadblock forming in her throat, her heart felt like it had fallen into her stomach. She had turned into that brunette, the vindictive one from the programme about vampires that Natasha was hooked on. Stringing along two brothers, two best friends, both as different as they were the same.

"Oh my God. I've turned into Katherine Pierce." muttered Lola, sweating nervously.

It didn't help that Bucky jogged over to her on his way back into the tunnel. She barely heard his flirty comment about how he would score a goal just for her; she was absorbed in Steve's eyebrows of disappointment. Bucky didn't even notice, as he skipped down the tunnel, Steve trailing behind him.

Peter's wide eyes absorbed the scene from the safety of the camera lens. He glanced sideways at Lola. She looked pale; as if she had just been force-fed a particularly unpleasant medicine. He tried to hold his questions back, but alas, he had always had a bad case of word-vomit.

"Are you sleeping with Captain America _and_ the Winter Soldier?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Wait, it's nothing, Miss. Stark."

"Did you really just ask me if I'm sleeping with New York's soccer-star duo?"

"It's… it's cool, you don't have to answer."

"Good. Because I have no fucking idea."

"We're… we're not going to mention that in the article, are we?"

"We don't need to start a conversation about this."

"Okay."

The butterflies in Lola's tummy calmed down as the whistle signalled the start of the match. She had come her to do her job, and she wasn't about to let the turmoil in her love life get in the way of that. Bucky and Steve seemed focused on their game too, their blue eyes intense with concentration. Having watched a few matches now, she was utterly thrilled by how different the experience was, seeing a game of soccer unfold before her eyes.

The atmosphere in the arena was electric, songs and chants reverberating through the crowd of fans. The opposition's supporters were in the far corner, and their jeers were being drowned out by the New York Red Bulls faithfuls. It was also the first time she was seeing Bucky and Steve's skills in action. Two best friends, just as inseparable on the soccer field as they were on the streets. They complimented one another perfectly, Steve calling the shots and setting Bucky up to finish the game plan.

The first forty-five minutes were relatively uneventful, with no goals scored. It wasn't until the second half that Steve slid the ball past a couple of unsuspecting defenders, Bucky sprinting from behind them to slot the ball neatly into the back of the net. The arena erupted, Lola along with it. Her professionalism flew out the window as she jumped and screamed happily, throwing her arms around Peter's neck and strangling him in the process. Apologising, she calmed herself and scribbled down a question to ask Bucky after the game, but she couldn't wipe the glee off her face.

So, Bucky did it for her. It was customary for a soccer player to have a celebratory gesture for when he scored a goal. Some slid along the grass on the knees, throwing their arms out wide. Others would perform a little dance routine with their teammates. A player who had just become a parent would rock an imaginary baby to commemorate the goal to their newborn child. Bucky Barnes, well, he did the next best- or worst- thing. Kissing his knuckles, he pointed at Lola, and all of a sudden those butterflies in her tummy turned into jellyfish. She had never seen that celebration before, but Peter's gasp of "You're totally sleeping with him!" and the way Bucky's gaze set her ablaze told her exactly what it meant. He grinned at her, mouthing "Told ya", before turning around and resuming his position on the soccer field.

"Holy shit on a stick." muttered Lola, hiding her grin behind her hand.

She giggled as Peter caught her eye, and he winked and nudged her. She could feel a blush warming her cheeks, the watchful eyes of the crowd now scoping her out, wondering who on earth this girl standing in the press area was. In spite of her hatred for the spotlight, she ignored it, her smile staying put. Trying to focus on the game again, she gasped as Steve went in for a particularly ferocious tackle, sending the other player crashing to the ground. The referee whistled, signalling a foul and punishing Steve with a yellow card. Lola shifted uncomfortably, as Steve huffed and marched away, completely unperturbed by the referee's warning. The uneasy feeling was back.

It seemed as if an age had passed by the time the referee blew the final whistle. The New York Red Bulls had won. A chorus of cheers echoed around the arena, the home team clapping and waving at the fans while the opposition headed for the tunnel… Steve right behind them. He didn't stay to celebrate. Slowly, the Red Bulls headed back inside too.

"That's our cue." said Peter loudly, tapping Lola on the shoulder.

She nodded, urging the jellyfish in her tummy to calm down as she squeezed through the other photographers. Worried she was going to open her mouth and throw up all over her shoes, Lola slowly made her way down the tunnel, the noisy crowd drowned out by the thick walls.

Lola's footsteps echoed loudly on the concrete floor, her finger mindlessly clicking and unclicking the black pen in her hand. Bucky stood in front of a backdrop, gulping down a bottle of Gatorade and waiting to answer the questions journalists would hurl at him. An official looking man was holding a bottle of champagne; a prize of sorts for the Man of the Match. Disinterested by the champagne, Bucky turned away, breaking out in a grin when he saw her approaching. Her heart pounding in her ears, the questions she had thoughtfully jotted down seemed to vanish from her memory.

"Lola." said Steve, blocking her path with his bulky frame. The rage was gone from his eyes, leaving behind a blue calm.

"Steve." came Lola's surprised reply. Glancing at Bucky and the oncoming herd of journalists, she desperately tried to recall her questions. "I have to- "

"I need to talk to you."

"I can't right now, I'm sorry, my job, I- "

Lola tried to sidestep him, but Steve's hand reached out and grabbed her arm. Exhaling loudly, he slipped his other hand round the back of her head, pulling her face up to meet his as he crashed his lips down on hers. Lola gasped, her notes falling from her hand as camera clicked wildly around her and she heard Bucky swear.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Thought we were holding on, aren't we?**

Sam stood between his two closest friends, his eyes glancing between them as he tried to deduce what was causing the awkward silence. Bucky and Steve had been acting strangely recently; even turning up separately to Stark Tower, which was highly unusual considering they were normally joined at the hip. Instead, they both stood there in silence, nursing their glasses of top-shelf whiskey that Tony had imported in specially for the occasion.

It was an enchanting evening. A jazz band played away softly, perfuming the air with the tinkling of a piano and the expert strumming of a bass. Embraced couples swayed softly to the music. A pyramid of champagne glasses glittered in the dim lights, waiting for the bubbles that would follow the toast of celebration. The sale of the club had finally gone through, and it naturally called for festivity. As far as Tony Stark's celebratory parties went, it was very classy. It was formal and elegant; the man himself not even drunk as he posed for a photograph with Alexander Pierce and Nicholas Fury.

"Man, I cannot take this anymore!" cried Sam. Steve had been desperately avoiding his questioning gaze while Bucky didn't even try to hide the fact that he was ignoring Steve. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing, Sam." replied Steve, tilting his glass so the ice cubes clinked together.

"Really? Then why the hell are we the only three standing around at this party? This is meant to be fun."

"Plenty of dames, Wilson. Go ask one to dance." suggested Bucky flatly, his eyes vacant as he stared at the couples dancing.

"Come on, man. You know I'm waiting to see if a certain red-headed Russian turns up with our mutual friend."

"She's more than friends with some of us." mumbled Bucky into his drink.

His comment didn't go unnoticed. Steve's eyes narrowed into blue slits, and Sam looked up triumphantly.

"Aha! So, Miss. Stark is at the centre of all this!"

"Sam. Just don't." warned Steve.

"Yeah, Sam." mocked Bucky. "Don't wanna ruin Captain America's perfect image now, would we, pal?"

"I never said I was perfect."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't say."

Sam sipped his drink loudly, clearly delighted with the evening's performance. Alright, perhaps it was a little mean of him to enjoy something that was a very big deal for his two closest friends. It was almost unbelievable. The entire time he had known Steve and Bucky, he had never seen them fight over a girl. Or over much, apart from who could have the last hot dog from the vendor at Coney Island. And even then, they would end up splitting it. Sam knew he should offer words of advice; he probably should help them repair their friendship. But he didn't. The latest guest to arrive caught his eye, and he quickly put down his drink and cleared his throat.

Bucky and Steve whipped around, following Sam's suddenly glazed over eyes. Hardly surprising when Natasha Romanoff was standing there in a Hollywood red dress that was draped over her sensually. Her hair sat in voluminous curls which she ruffled. Her emerald eyes darted around for a split second, before she leant over, her red lips whispering something in her friend's ear.

Her friend looked stunning. Lola was clad in a black pinstripe dress that seemed to be made for her, lace trims brushing her calves and her cleavage. She stood like a queen, towering in her black heels as her smokey eyes took in the scene before her. Her gaze seemed to deliberately dance past the corner where Bucky and Steve stood. Before either of them could move, they found themselves transfixed as a man walked in and placed his hand on her lower back.

'God' was a better description, Steve thought dully, watching as the photographer knelt down on her knees, trying to fit all of the man into the photo with Lola. There was no way a man that size could be human. Despite his tuxedo, there was no hiding the tree trunks he had for biceps. His every step exuded strength, but he had a very gentle smile that he offered to everyone Lola introduced him too. His blonde hair was shoulder length, and somehow looked so cool swept back like that. Bucky was hit with a wave of concern; perhaps he should have done that with his hair instead of pulling it into a low man bun.

"Who the hell is _that_?" gasped Sam, his eyes popping out of his head. A passing woman giggled and he quickly put on his best poker face. "I mean, looks like you two aren't the only men in that Stark's life."

"Guess we all know she got a thing for blondes." Said Bucky flatly.

"Man, you're as dumb as you look if you think Rogers can compete with that." Interjected Sam, and Steve looked at him dejectedly.

Sam shrugged and turned his attention to Natasha's whereabouts. No way in hell was he getting involved in this.

"Bucky." said Steve gently. "We should talk about this."

"Nothin' to talk about, pal." replied Bucky, smiling through tight lips.

"Come on, man. You're my friend."

"You gettin' all sappy on me, Steve?"

"Buck- "

"Look, pal. I get it. You like this broad, I'm not holdin' you back."

"But, you like her too."

"She's got nice cans." shrugged Bucky, as if they were discussing nothing more than a new breakfast cereal. "Sure, she's hot and she's got a mouth on her. But, I'm not a one girl guy, and you know it. So, go for it, pal."

"Really?" pressed Steve. His eyebrows of concern were back.

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk away.

"Really." he answered. "But, she just got out of a serious relationship. Don't mean she's lookin' for a new one."

* * *

"You're avoiding them." stated Natasha matter-of-factly, as the waiter put down dessert in front of her.

Lola stayed silent, pressing her spoon into the little cake and watching as chocolate gushed out of it almost sexually. She scooped up a little and sighed happily at how delicious it was. The entire dinner had been incredible, and she cursed herself for wearing such a constricting dress. Thor had already shovelled down his pudding, and was eyeing up the untouched one on Pierce's plate. Lola suppressed a giggle and turned back to Natasha, who was still waiting for an answer. She rolled her eyes.

"Nat, now isn't exactly the appropriate time to sort out my love life."

"Why does your love life need sorting out, Miss. Stark? I thought you had ejected that rabble rouser Pietro Maximoff from your home?" boomed Thor, reaching his fork out to Pierce's chocolate pudding.

His loud voice startled the man, and he turned around in his chair, Thor's fork going through his wrist instead of his pudding. Pierce yelped and Thor drew his fork back, smiling awkwardly. Pierce huffed and pushed his plate towards Thor, who accepted it happily.

"It's not Pietro." explained Lola with a sigh, watching the few couples dancing to the music of the jazz band.

"Ah, so it is another suitor entirely!"

"Try two." interjected Natasha, and Thor almost choked on his second pudding.

"Nat!"

"Lola?" came a voice, and she jumped. Steve stood tentatively, shuffling his feet.

He looked good, in his dark blue tux with black lapels, a black bow completing the ensemble. It didn't escape Lola's attention, nor Natasha's, as she kicked Lola under the table.

"Hi, Steve." she smiled back, and he offered a nervous smile back. His eyes flew to Natasha, and Lola introduced them. Thor coughed and held out a large paw.

"Thor Odinson. It is a pleasure to meet you Captain. I am an admirer of your footwork on the field."

"Thank you." said Steve genuinely, watching his hand be swallowed up in Thor's. "I was wondering if I could steal your date for a dance?"

"By all means, Captain. She is yours."

Lola bowed her head, as she took Steve's hand and followed him to the dance floor. A silence fell over them, as they swayed in time to the beat of the saxophone. Tony was staring at her with wide eyes from his seat, and he was… clapping? Dying with embarrassment, she looked away and her gaze locked with Bucky's. She thought she saw his eyes flash for a second, but Steve spun them round and she laughed softly.

"Since when does Steve Rogers dance?"

"Since he was told to shut up and dance."

"I'm glad I'm persuasive."

A silence fell over them again, as the band started a slower song. Steve's hand dropped a little lower down her back. Lola smiled into his shoulder. She leant her head against his chest and closed her eyes, trying to make sense of her thoughts as the moment consumed her. It was wonderful dancing like this with Steve. He felt so warm and strong and… safe. Too safe. Too comfortable. Too much of a friend.

 _This was how it began with Pietro_.

It terrified her. She had promised herself that she would never let her life be dull again, and she certainly wouldn't let a man do that to her. Steve wasn't a bad person, but she couldn't bear the thought of growing to resent him out of boredom. He was one of her closest confidantes, an integral part of her history. She would rather be his friend than not be in his life at all.

But, Bucky. God, he was so fascinating. He excited her with his passion and zest for life. Dangerous and sexy, he had a smouldering gaze that made her mind race with filthy thoughts of what she wanted him to do to her. Yes, he was the bad boy… but hadn't he proved he could be good just for her? Maybe he didn't want a relationship, and oh boy, was it the worst idea to develop feelings for someone like that, but like many before her, she had the tiniest shred of hope that she could be the one to change him.

"And I love her."

"I'm sorry?"

"The song. It's by The Beatles. 'And I Love Her'."

"Trust you to know a golden oldie, Steve Rogers."

"They don't call me a senior citizen for nothing."

Lola dared to lift her head up, her eyes meeting Steve's, and he exhaled a resignated sigh.

"We can't dodge the subject forever, Lola."

"Let's go get some air, okay?" she suggested, nodding towards the balcony.

His hand fell away to hold hers, the pair ignoring all eyes on them. The photographer snapped a photo, and Lola glared at her. Pushing open the door, they stepped out into the cool night air. When they were a fair distance away from prying eyes, Lola spun on her heel.

"Steve- "

He silenced her with a kiss, his strong hands tenderly cupping her face. There was a force behind his lips, and she let it soften before pulling back.

"Steve." she whispered, her hands gently pulling his away. "That was…"

"Like kissing your brother."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. He rubbed the back of his head, an awkward smile plastered across his face.

"We're forcing something that's not there. Not anymore."

"How long have you known?"

"Since Josie's."

"Me too."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to give us another chance." he replied, leaning his arms on the glass barrier and looking down at the city.

"You never did give up without a fight." she laughed.

"Yeah, well, you were worth the fight. I just feel…"

"Comfortable? Safe? Easy? Like you know me and I know you."

"Yeah."

They stood next to each other, watching New York twinkle under the moonlight. A siren screeched in the distance, and the buzz of the city was just about audible this far up in the clouds.

"Bucky really likes you, you know." said Steve, breaking the serenity. Lola blushed.

"From what I hear, he's a bit of a ladies man."

"Not around you."

"We had coffee one time, Steve. I don't think that counts."

"He's not slept with anyone since." he smiled knowingly. "Go talk to him. Just, be patient okay? It's been a while since he felt this way about someone."

"You really think so?"

"Lola, if I have to watch him pine after you any longer, he'll be the next person I tackle."

The party was still in full swing, as more people had joined the dance floor, the bubbles lifting their spirits.

"Honey, there you are." said Tony, grabbing her arm. "Dance with your old man, come on, we're celebrating."

"I will, I promise, daddy. I'll be right back."

"I knew this would happen! Stupid crushes on stupid boys!" he called after her, and she laughed good naturedly.

Where was Bucky? He wasn't dancing. Some people had left, including the photographer woman. Surely he hadn't left so soon? She waited outside the men's room, but five minutes later and there had been no-one in or out.

"Jarvis!" she cried. "Have you seen Bucky? I mean, James. James Buchanan Barnes."

"I believe I saw him heading towards the kitchens, Miss. Stark. No doubt trying to steal your father's whiskey. I have been rather cunning and stashed it somewhere safe."

"Thank you!"

Jogging as fast as her heels would take her, she turned into the corridor that led towards the kitchens. A crash scared the life out of her, and she clutched her chest. A loud groan echoed from the closet on her left, and ready to whip her heels off and stab the intruder, she wrenched open the door.

Bucky was balls deep in the photographer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Why do you do what you do to me?**

"Men." exclaimed Jane, sipping her very berry smoothie.

She crossed her legs and huffed loudly, as if she was sending out deathly vibes to all males in the vicinity.

"Okay, let's try to not blow this out of proportion." offered Lola, swirling the straw in her own smoothie.

"That's uncharacteristically mature of you." drawled Natasha, as she scooped her hair up into a ponytail.

The girls had got together to try out a Zumba class at the gym, catching up over pre-workout smoothies before it began. Jane looked adorable in her gear, like a ballerina. She certainly had the flexibility of one, and Lola made a mental note to introduce her to Thor.

"I am always mature." jabbed Lola, feigning offence. "I don't even know why I was so shocked. It's not like I didn't know he's a player."

"It's because he clearly likes you. But, seeing you with Steve made him jealous. Men do stupid things when they're jealous." retorted Jane wisely.

"He wants to sleep with me. There's a difference."

"So, sleep with him." said Natasha obviously, sexually sipping her straw as she maintained eye contact with the mass of muscles on the next table.

"Oh, that's a good idea!" cried Jane, eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Make love to him, so he'll fall in love with you, and BAM! He's your man!"

"Jane, sweetie, I don't think he works that way."

"Oh. Well, sleep with him anyway. He's cute. And famous."

"Okay, I think it's time for Zumba." laughed Lola, throwing her empty cup in the bin.

The three girls walked to the dance studio, where the instructor was setting up the music. Mr. Muscles whistled at Natasha, who sauntered away swaying her hips. One had to admire her no-nonsense approach to life. She was unapologetically herself and had very little regard for gender roles. Lola decided to try and be more like Natasha.

"God, what happened to us, girls?" she puffed, trying to keep up with the instructor.

"What do you mean?" inquired Jane, moving at ease, light on her feet and seemingly step-perfect with the routine.

"When did men become the centre of our conversations?"

"Since the men in your life became so interesting." giggled Natasha, giving the Zumba routine her everything.

"Well, I'm going to stop. And I'm going to focus more on me."

"How exactly do you plan on doing that?" breathed Natasha, after the Zumba class.

The instructor had really upped the ante, and even Jane had to work hard to keep up. Lola thought about it for a second, and then walked determinedly over to the community notice board, almost colliding with the girl who ran up to it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, dude?" she apologised, pushing her black curly hair out of her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm fine."

"You sure? Here, I'll give you the first lesson free as a kind gesture." she offered, thrusting a flyer into Lola's hands.

"Pole dancing?"

"Don't knock it 'til you tried it. I'm Darcy, by the way."

"Hi, Darcy. I'm Lola, and these are my friends; Natasha and Jane."

"You guys should totally come too! It's really good fun."

"Yeah, we'll be there." smiled Lola, and Darcy gave a thumbs up before jogging off again.

"Her boobs looked great in that shirt."

"Nat!"

The three girls parted ways that evening after agreeing to sign up for Darcy's pole dancing lessons. Natasha's question still dwelled in Lola's mind, and feeling like she needed a little guidance, headed towards the Upper East Side.

Across Madison Avenue, in a block of not-so average apartments, lived Peggy Carter. Originally from Hampstead in England, Margaret "Peggy" Carter had been Lola's high school English teacher, and now, her esteemed mentor. After her fiance, Fred Wells, had died a tragic death in the army, she had taken an early retirement. Lola remembered how devastated Peggy had been, but the Englishwoman didn't let heartbreak rule her life for too long. Peggy was a tough old bird and had dedicated her life to fundraising for war veterans, tutoring students in her spare time. God help the man who dared cross her.

Lola knocked on the door for apartment number eleven, cringing at the noises coming from the apartment across the hall. That was definitely a woman in the throes of passion. The man must be a positive beast, if he could get her to make those kind of noises. She was about to stuff her fingers in her ears, when the door opened.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the elusive Lola Stark. Hotshot journalist too busy with sports players to give her dear old mentor a call." smirked Peggy Carter, sassily putting her hands on her hips.

Lola held out a box.

"I bought Victoria Sponge."

"I'll put the kettle on."

If there was one thing the British did right, it was tea. Lola adored Peggy's vintage tea set- not that she was ever allowed to touch the teapot that had belonged to Peggy's great grandmother. There was a matching milk jug and sugar bowl; the same floral design patterned on the cups and saucers.

Peggy bustled about her grand kitchen, making the tea, while Lola dished out the cake slices on two plates. Thankfully, the sound of the radio seemed to drown out the sex noises. And Peggy was quick to explain she had complained several times already.

"I'm sorry I haven't been round sooner."

"Nonsense! I was only teasing you, dear. Here, let me pour the tea."

"How have you been, Peggy?"

"You ask that with such concern."

"I do care about you, you know."

"I've been perfectly well, thank you. And as it turns out, you are not the only one who cares about me."

Lola choked on her tea, and Peggy gave her a look of disgust, before continuing with a growing smile.

"Well, if you must know. I visited my niece Sharon for lunch last week, and I met one of her superiors. Daniel. He's very lovely."

"I'll bet he is."

"Oh, hush! We are merely enjoying each other's company."

"Is that what the grown-ups call it these days?"

"Hold your tongue, young lady. Daniel is a perfect gentleman. Besides, I'm no longer as young as I used to be."

"Oh, now you hush, Peggy! You're beautiful!"

"Yes, well, that's enough about me." blushed Peggy, putting down her teacup. "You have a lot to catch me up on. Especially now that you're covering Sports for The Daily Marvel."

"I didn't know you read the Sports pages."

"I don't. I abhorre the way you Americans call it 'soccer'. It's _football_."

"Technicalities."

"You seem less than thrilled."

"Do I? I'm not. I mean, I'm happy. It's better than just writing cafe reviews."

"Then what seems to be the problem, dear?"

Lola sighed and put down her teacup too. Peggy refilled it immediately.

"For ages, it felt like nothing was happening in my life. And now, all of a sudden, so much is happening at once. I'm grateful that Clint's giving me this chance, but I always thought I would end up writing hard-hitting pieces, or end up in the Editorial department of a cultural magazine."

"Yes, I remember the kind of articles you used to write for the school paper. They were very good."

"This is the part where you share your wisdom, Peggy."

"My wisdom. Ah yes." chuckled the old woman. "The world has become incredibly competitive, dear. Of course, it's become easier for a woman to pursue a career, but that's not to say it's a jolly walk in the park."

"What do I do, oh wise sensai?"

"Compromise where you can. And where you can't, don't."

"Okay. That made no sense."

"There is no harm in writing about football, if it helps you on your journey to your dream job. It's all very well having an end goal, but it's highly useful mapping your path. Even if you have to take the long, scenic route."

Lola nodded and sipped at her tea, mulling over Peggy's words. It was true, the job market was a nightmare these days. It was hard enough finding a job as it was, and she considered herself lucky she wasn't stuck in a Baskin & Robbins job like that poor guy, Scott Lang. He was a very chatty man, who had reeled off his life story when Tony last took her for ice cream (it was a tradition of theirs).

Although, she supposed her parentage did play some role. Not that she ever let it give her a free pass. In fact, she often felt like she needed to work harder, to prove that this wasn't just a way to pass the time. Despite the billions in the bank, Lola never expected anything, she knew she had to work hard for it.

"I get the feeling your career isn't the only thing on your mind." prompted Peggy, and Lola looked at her tea guiltily.

"I can't." she groaned. "I said I was going to stop talking about men."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"More like fifty shades of shit."

"You have piqued my interest."

Lola sighed, and before she could help herself, everything came spilling out. From Pietro's promiscuity, to reigniting an old flame with Steve, and finally, a certain James Buchanan Barnes. Peggy stared back at her.

"You were right. That is fifty shades of shit." she blinked.

"It's sounds so much elegant when you say it."

"Occupational hazard of an English accent. Linguistics aside, I think this Barnes chap is a right and proper plonker."

"So am I, for thinking I stood a chance."

"Oh no, Lola Maria Stark. You had better put a stop to that dreary attitude."

"Think about it, Peggy. He's a self-proclaimed bachelor. He told me so himself."

"That doesn't mean you can't change his mind."

"I've got a better chance of marrying Prince Harry."

"Well, if you do I insist on being invited to the wedding. And a job tutoring William and Kate's children." she joked. "But, I digress. I think Barnes is jealous, if you ask me."

"Jealous? The man can get any woman he wants!"

"Yes, but not you. You have repeatedly rejected the fellow, so naturally it's hard for him to believe you now fancy him. Especially as he likes to play the field. He has trust issues."

"You're a relationship guru now?"

"Think about it, you daft banana. If he's reluctant to maintain any relationship, there must be a reason why."

"Steve said he's 'been through a lot'."

"Steve might have a point."

"I can't do this. I refuse to fall for an emotionally unavailable guy."

The finality of her tone ended the conversation, and Peggy pushed no further. Truth be told, she wasn't worried about Lola. She had a good head screwed on her shoulders, and she had faith that things would work out for her. Being a mentor was important, but their bond felt a little deeper than that. Although it had never been openly admitted, it was spoken in the way Peggy always made sure Lola never left hungry and how Lola always turned to Peggy for advice.

True to her habits, Peggy wouldn't let Lola leave until she agreed to come over for a traditional roast dinner one Sunday.

"Bring your father with you! It's been quite a while since I saw Anthony."

"He hates it when you call him that."

"Why else do you think I call him that?" winked Peggy, as the door across the hall rattled. "I'm going to disappear now, I daresay I can't face that woman after that racket. Goodbye, dear."

Peggy promptly shut her front door, and Lola, ready to sneak away found herself rooted to the spot as Bucky emerged from the apartment across the hall. He froze, his jacket half shrugged on as Dottie lit a cigarette, her silk robe undone. And just like that, Lola was back to square one, where things were messy and uncertain. She felt a stab of jealousy, followed by a wave of nausea; realising that _he_ was the reason behind Dottie's pornographic profanities.

But, good God did he look _hot_ with the post-sex glow and tousled hair; his t-shirt rumpled and his blue eyes a sea of content. Clearing her throat, Lola banished the awkward tension and raised a hand.

"Hey." she smiled, keeping her voice steady.

She was not going to let Bucky, and especially not Dottie, know she was crumbling inside.

"Hey." echoed Bucky.

He pulled his jacket on and ran a hand through his hair. Dottie peered out into the hallway, her beady eyes narrowed into slits.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded suspiciously.

"Visiting an old friend." she answered, jabbing at door eleven. _Keep calm. Don't punch her in her stupid face._

"Oh, Peggy." snickered Dottie. "She's old alright."

"At least she's not a slut." muttered Lola under her breath.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing, I, at least she's got a lot. She keeps busy. Just not in the same way we all do. Anyway, it was nice bumping into you both."

Lola bounded off. Or rather, hurriedly sauntered away, trying to act cool and mature beyond the situation. Jane was drastically wrong. There was no way sleeping with him was going to make him fall head over heels for her. Although… no. No, no, no. She wasn't meant to be thinking about him. Or men. She was supposed to focus on her career and herself, she'd let love find her. But, maybe it had found her. Maybe she just needed to give it a little nudge?

"Lola! Wait up, doll!"

"Oh, hey!" she exclaimed, keeping her hand raised for a taxi.

"What's the rush, sugar?" asked Bucky, shoving his hands in his pockets and raising his eyebrows.

"You dodgin' me or somethin'?"

"Well, for all I know, Fury might be hiding behind that motorbike." She teased, and he chuckled.

"It's mine. Come on, I'll give you a ride." He offered, and Lola blinked at him. He sighed and held a helmet out. "Not like that, sugar. Think Steve might kill me if I made a pass at his girl." He added, peering under her chin as he buckled up the helmet.

 _Steve's_ _girl_ , _huh_?

"You're cute." Grinned Lola cheekily.

"Sure am, sugar."

"For thinking making a pass is all it takes for _Steve's_ _girl_."

She ran a hand along the handlebars, and then swung a leg over the motorbike, straddling it and gripping the handlebars.

"You coming?"

"Just might be at this rate." He mumbled under his breath, climbing on to the bike behind her. "You expect me to trust you with my bike?"

"What's life without a little risk?" She dared, as the bike roared. "Better hold on, soccer star."

Bucky was in shock. He had never let anyone ride his motorbike, at least, not like this. He was always the one in charge- in all respects of the word. Yet, here he was, his arms wrapped around Lola's waist, who giggled delightedly as she wove the bike through New York's busy streets. Her laughter was infectious, and Bucky smiled into her hair. She was still a little sweaty and her clothes clung to her, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. He hated those dames that were so high-maintenance, the kind that always wore a full face of make-up and ordered complicated drinks at Starbucks. But, not her. Sure, she looked incredible when she dressed up. But what struck him was how she had no qualms about being around him without a scrap of make-up on her face, and riding his motorbike with pure ease. What was so addictive about this one girl?

"When'd you learn to bike?" Bucky shouted over the noisy streets.

"The summer before college! Steve and I took a road trip across the country!"

"The little shit!" he exclaimed, as the bike came to a slow halt in front of Lola's building.

She switched the ignition off and swivelled round to face him.

"What?"

"Steve! He told me he was with a girl. I thought he was jokin'!"

"You're not the only one who gets lucky with the ladies, soccer star." She hummed, standing up and stepping on to the sidewalk.

"You really are Steve's girl, huh?" He said to himself more than her, and she leant her face dangerously close to his.

Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled back st him, and he could feel the rising tension.

"I'm not anybody's girl."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: I just wanna take your time**

"Washington." Echoed Lola, her hands gripping the sides of the uncomfortable chair that faced Clint's desk. "You're sending me to Washington?"

"Yes." Said Clint boredly. "Only I did say that about three times, Stark."

"Sorry, I just can't quite believe it!"

"Well, you better. Even Vis is impressed with how well we're doing. Sales are up and the Sports pages are the talk of the industry. You must be doing something right."

"I hope so. I really want to do well at this."

"Good, because there's something else I need you to do."

"Anything."

Clint put down his coffee cup and leant back in his chair, eyeing up the bright-eyed hopeful in front of him.

"There's an idea. To bring two groups of people together." He began, and Lola nodded, her forehead crinkled in concentration. "Look, truth is, newspapers are a dying breed, and we need to act fast. We want to build a partnership with the NY Red Bulls, pitch the idea of a weekly magazine to them. Maybe even do their match programmes. It's not always as simple, but we got an inside man. You see what I'm getting at?"

"You want me to use my familial connections." Stated Lola, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

"Well, that's all good and well but the Red Bull's chairman has to be on board too."

"Right." She smiled through tight lips and stood up. "Thanks, Clint."

"Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"Well done on getting off your ass."

Confusion plagued Lola's mind as she packed her bag and left the office. After her chat with Peggy, she felt like she was doing the right thing. And she was actually really beginning to enjoy soccer. It was exciting, and she had been keeping up with the English and Spanish leagues. Vis no longer looked down at her like she was a lowly peasant, and had even congratulated her on how her journalism skills were going from strength to strength. Finally feeling like she was moving forward positively, Clint asking her to use her 'connections' had thrown her off. She wanted to be more than just her father's daughter.

Sighing, she hailed a cab and headed to Josie's. It had become a daily habit while Natasha was in London covering Brexit. The apartment was awfully quiet, and so Lola would occupy a seat at Josie's bar with cheap beer and her notebook. She was a little old fashioned that way, thinking better with a pen rather than a keyboard.

Josie grunted in greeting, and placed a bottle down in front of Lola. It was a little busy tonight, and she found herself sitting next to a man drinking his own beer in silence as she read a text from Natasha. Ignoring him, she pulled out her notebook and began to plan her weekend in DC. The man shifted next to her and cocked his head to the side.

"You're late." He smirked and Lola's head snapped up.

"Excuse me?"

"You're late." he repeated. "You've been coming in for the past three days at exactly the same time, sitting in exactly the same place and doing the exact same thing."

"Are you stalking me?"

"No." chuckled the man, rolling his beer bottle between his hands. "It's nice to see a new face around here. Well, maybe not see…"

"It's probably for the best. You don't want to see the mess that I am right now."

"You don't sound like a mess, … ?"

"Lola."

"Matt. Can I buy you another drink? Only Josie's finest, of course."

* * *

There was a loud crash, followed by a loud groan. Lola looked around her surroundings wildly.

"Nelson and Murdock? Your office?" she giggled, as Matt fumbled with the key.

"It's closer." he shrugged, holding the door open.

"For a blind guy, there's more to you than meets the eye." she joked, looking around the relatively bare office.

Swivelling round, her giggles turned into a moan as his lips came crashing down on hers, every move of his mouth igniting passion. He walked her backwards, hands fumbling at each other's clothes in the darkness. She squealed as he swept her up and swiftly placed her on a desk, various stationery rolling to the floor and papers scattering out of their neat folders. Matt didn't seem to have a care in the world, as his lips began their assault on her neck, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful she was.

Despite the shadows, it was obvious he worked out. The strong muscles of his arms twitched under her touch. The dark scruff on his face scratched against the soft skin of her neck, tickling enough to make her dig her fingernails into his shoulders. Tracing her fingers over the faint scars on his chest, she looked at him questioningly.

"How do you know?"

"Know what?" came his low voice.

"When you take a girl home, how do you know she's beautiful when you can't see?"

"There's more ways to see how beautiful a girl is than with your eyes." Matt whispered back, bringing his lips back to up Lola's, kissing her softly.

"How she tastes."

He leant his forehead against hers.

"The smell of her perfume."

His fingers ghosted over her bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"The way she feels."

Letting his fingers dip lower, she gasped.

"The noises she makes."

"You're a charmer, you know that, Matt Murdock? No wonder you became a lawyer." she laughed, lying back on the desk.

"Let me show you just how charming I can be."

* * *

It was the combination of the constant beeping from the streets below, and the aroma of coffee that roused Lola. Blinking slowly in the morning light, she sat up, Matt's jacket clutched to her naked body. As if on cue, he came into his office, two cups in his hand and his unblinking eyes unperturbed by the sunshine streaming in.

"Good morning." he smiled, handing her a cup and taking a seat beside her.

"Hey." she smiled. He couldn't see it, but he felt it in the kiss she placed on his cheek. "Mm, sex and coffee? You're a hell of a lawyer."

He chuckled and took a sip from his own cup.

"You have a sense of humour before caffeine. I'm impressed. Foggy's definitely not a morning person."

"Does Foggy normally wake up naked on your office floor?"

"I can't say he has. But, the lease isn't up yet."

Lola snorted and looked around for her clothes.

"Speaking of, we should probably get dressed."

"Really? I thought I'd practice law like this today." joked Matt, motioning at his half-dressed self.

"I'm sure your secretary won't mind."

"I should probably put Karen's desk right." he cringed, doing his belt up.

"Yeah," giggled Lola, walking out the office. "Good luck telling her you defiled her desk with hot, nasty- oh. Hi."

Bucky blinked back at her, as Foggy Nelson simply grinned, raising an eyebrow as Matt bumbled out his office searching for his shirt. Karen pursed her lips as Lola raised a hand.

"Hi, you must be Karen. And Foggy."

"I'd say it's a pleasure, but I'm sure Matt took care of that." smirked Foggy.

Matt slapped a hand to his forehead, and Bucky cleared his throat.

"Hey, Bucky." she greeted awkwardly.

"Lola." he replied shortly, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Mr. Barnes." greeted Matt, and Bucky promptly ignored him.

Mumbling something about making coffee, Karen disappeared into the kitchenette.

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward." said Foggy loudly. "Matthew, can I speak with you?"

"Oh, sure." agreed Matt, practically hurtling back to the safety of his office.

Foggy excused himself, leaving Bucky and Lola alone. Finding the tension unbearable, Lola tried to desperately think of something to say.

"Weren't kiddin' when you said you're nobody's girl." said Bucky, finding his voice.

"Are you jealous, James Buchanan Barnes?" teased Lola.

 _Please say yes_.

"Full namin' me, huh?" he chortled.

"I mean business."

"You sure do, sugar." he laughed, nodding at the mess on the floor. The desk looked thoroughly worn, moved out of place and it's drawers half-loose.

"Oh, please." she blushed. "I've caught you doing worse."

"No comment." shrugged Bucky, sending her a cheeky wink.

"Mr. Barnes, I'll be waiting in my office when you're ready." said Foggy, exiting Matt's office.

"Is everything okay?" asked Lola softly, looking at Bucky.

"Oh, yeah, course, doll. Just contractual stuff, you know?" he lied, running a hand through his hair.

She pretended to believe him. She bit her lip.

"Do you want to hang out tonight?" she blurted and he looked curiously at her.

"You askin' me out?"

"Bucky." she groaned, rolling her eyes. "No, we just haven't hung out since that time we went for coffee. And I feel like there's something between us- "

"- sexual tension- "

"- and it's so weird. So, let's just hang out, okay? Eat food, watch some movies, chill out?" she rambled and he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Whoa, slow down there, doll." he laughed, and she took a deep breath. "Sure, we'll hang out. If that's what you wanna call it."

"It's _not_ a date."

"Whatever you say, sugar. Come over later, alright?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you tonight. Oh and by the way, you smell like sex."

"You're just jealous it wasn't you."

"Day's still young, sugar."

"So. That wasn't awkward." mused Matt, emerging from his office and attempting to do up his tie.

"Oh, not at all." replied Lola sarcastically, as Bucky disappeared into Foggy's office.

She could feel his eyes watching her like a hawk, so she reached out and straightened Matt's tie for him. Bucky's eyes narrowed behind the glass.

"I'd like to see you again. Not romantically, but I've never met someone who could kick my ass at pool like you did. And I demand a rematch."

"Okay, I cannot go back there and beat the blind guy at pool again. They'll be calling Amnesty International on me." she laughed, placing a hand on his chest.

"Are you trying to piss Mr. Barnes off?" he asked perceptively.

"More like, seeing how far I can push him."

"I got just the thing."

Matt inched closer, his hands cupping Lola's face as he placed a searing kiss on her lips. Closing her eyes, she let herself be consumed in the moment, until he pulled away.

"Is he watching?" he whispered, his hands drifting to her hips. She glanced out the corner of her eye.

"You should buy Foggy a new pen. Bucky just snapped it."

"There's a few on my floor."

"Thanks for the kiss."

"Thank you for last night."

"Bye, Matt."

"Goodbye, Miss. Stark."

* * *

"Imagine my surprise when I came home last night, expecting to find you and that pizza I asked you to order, waiting up for me. And instead, I was met by a cold and empty apartment." drawled Natasha, sweeping into the room and sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Lola turned around from her wardrobe, a guilty smile on her face. Natasha's eyes widened at a comical rate.

"You got laid."

"What?"

"You and Barnes finally did the dirty!"

"Nat- "

"Tell me everything! What did you do? Where did you do it? Is he as cocky down there as he is with his attitude?"

"Nat! Bucky and I did not 'do the dirty'!" cried Lola, grabbing her friend's flapping arms.

Natasha stared back at her, a hint of a disappointment on her face, before she quickly perked up again.

"Who did you sleep with then?"

"How do you even know I had sex?"

"You look like you had a good banging."

"I hope your Brexit article isn't this crude."

"Screw Brexit. Who did you fuck, Lola Stark?" demanded Natasha. Lola sighed and curled up beside her best friend, hugging a pillow.

"His name's Matt. He's a lawyer."

"I can't believe you had a hot night of sex with a rich lawyer in his fancy apartment while I ate McDonald's."

"We… didn't make it to his apartment."

"You filthy little- "

"Nat!"

"- I am so proud of you."

"So, you and this Matt. Are you- ?" asked Natasha, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, no." scoffed Lola. "He's nice. And cute. And for a blind guy he knows his way around a girl. But, no, there was no romance."

"A one night stand. You really have grown up." sniffed Natasha, pretending to wipe a tear. Lola rolled her eyes.

"You say that like he's my first." she snorted, heading back to her wardrobe.

Natasha cocked her head.

"What does this mean for you and Barnes?"

"Well, he did walk in on us in the morning…"

"Get out! What did he say?"

"Not much. But he's not exactly in a position to say anything. Especially after the photographer. And Dot."

"I've never met this Dot, but I hate her. What's her game?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I think they're friends with benefits, but she likes him."

"You'll just have to kick her ass then." grinned Natasha, leaping off the bed.

"How do I do that?"

"Wear this. Oh, and get the cab to drop you off a couple blocks away."

"Nat, it looks like it's going to rain."

"Exactly."

* * *

Bucky hummed along to the music echoing through his expansive kitchen. He had put a playlist on shuffle, and he chuckled to himself, wondering if he had subconsciously put Trey Songz on deliberately. His music weren't exactly tame, that was for sure.

Oh God, what if she thought he was being suggestive? Not that it was a secret that he found her attractive. But, she wasn't exactly the kind of girl who would just jump into bed with him. That much had been obvious this morning, when he had caught her half-dressed and thoroughly ravished in his lawyer's office. Or perhaps that was her proving a point- after all, she had caught him screwing the photographer last week.

Truth be told, Bucky felt like a bit of an idiot. He had been so sure that Lola and Steve were madly in love, he had let his jealousy blind him. And then there was Blondie, all tanned and muscled, and he had watched her laugh at his jokes. After one too many free drinks, he had shamelessly flirted with the photographer into dropping her panties in a cleaning closet. Just his luck that Lola would find them at it, disappointment flashing in her eyes briefly, before she snapped the door shut. He had lost his mood after that, and the photographer had scowled at him on her way out. Jesus Christ, girls were hard work.

Steve had thrown a soccer ball at his head for being so stupid. He had confessed he once had feelings for Lola, long ago when they were teenagers. He wasn't willing to share the full details, saying that it wasn't just his story to tell. But he had gone as far as to say they were just the very best of friends now, and if he liked her as much as Steve thought he did, he should stop acting up and do something about it.

Lola's suggestion to 'hang out' had sparked his hope, and even though the idea of a relationship with one girl made him want to throw up over his fancy marble counter, he warned himself to stay calm. There was no need to stress about hypothetical situations, he would just see where the evening would take them. He would be a gentleman- she only saw him as a player- and get to know her, show her he cared. Even the prospect of friends or just a one night stand was better than nothing at all when it came to her.

The doorbell rang, just audible over the thunder that clapped and Bucky was jerked from his thoughts. Putting down the knife, he wiped his hands on a tea towel and hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

 _Be cool, James, be cool!_

Taking a deep breath, he wrenched open the door.

"Hey, doll! 'Bout t- " his cheery voice wavered.

 _Shit_.

"Hi, Bucky." shivered Lola.

She was soaking wet, beads of water dripping from her hair down to her very white, very transparent t-shirt. Her jeans stuck to her like a second skin and her feet were shaking in her boots. He blushed, he actually _blushed_ , when she caught him staring. He quickly cleared his throat.

"Uh, you alright there?"

"I thought I'd take a walk before coming here, and it started to rain."

 _There is no way this is an innocent mistake._

"Sorry for turning up all wet."

 _Sure you are, sweetheart._

She looked at him expectantly and he opened the door wider.

"No worries, doll. Come on in."

Smiling sweetly, Lola squeezed herself past Bucky, and he held his breath. Inwardly cursing himself, he followed her, admiring the way her wet jeans clung to her ass.

"Nice place you got here." she smiled, pacing around the open plan living space. "Great view."

"Sure is." he mumbled, trying to not notice that she wasn't wearing a bra.

 _Too late_.

"Something smells good." she commented, dragging her fingertips along the marble counter.

"Shit! Right, dinner." he gasped, jogging over.

He stood behind her, painfully aware of how close she was as he peered into the saucepan to make sure nothing was burning.

"You cook?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I like to impress when I can." he replied lowly.

 _Eyes up here, James!_

"It's working." she whispered, her eyes flickering down to his lips.

The tension was unbearable. All he could smell was her perfume, as he stood there captivated by the intensity in her eyes. Feeling dizzy, he placed a hand on the counter to steady himself, and she inched her fingers over his, feeling sparks where their skin touched. Her pouted lips were barely millimeters from his own, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. This was really happening.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?" he breathed, daring not to break this perfect moment.

"Can I borrow some clothes? I'm still wet." she smirked, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, sorry, yeah, 'course. Uh, help yourself to whatever you want. I'll put your clothes in the dryer." he stammered, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his bedroom.

"Thank you."

Bucky tried not to kick himself as Lola slipped past him.

 _What the fuck_?

A charming, self-proclaimed bachelor, practically reduced to an inexperienced teenager around a beautiful woman. He was done for. His brain had simply stopped working. All he could see were the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, and the outline of her figure in that wet, tight, white t-shirt. Oh right, her clothes.

Composing himself, he slowly trudged down the hallway to ask Lola for her clothes. If he was going to salvage the situation he needed his mojo back. Summoning his flirtatious charm, his ears pricked up at the sound of her humming the song that had been playing moments before.

 _Play this right and the neighbours will know your name_.

His bedroom door was open, and he stopped in his tracks, catching sight of her in the mirror as she slipped on one of his button down shirts, nothing on underneath. He should have looked away. He should have skulked back to the kitchen. He didn't. He stayed rooted to the spot, his eyes hungrily taking in the view before him as she did the buttons up, agonisingly slowly.

And just like that, Bucky was picking his jaw up off the floor again. Jesus Christ, he was just about to ready to march in there and pop open those buttons again. He could push her down on to his bed, make her tremble with kisses and touches for the way she had been teasing him.

"Bucky?" she said, appearing in front of him. There was a cheeky glint in her eyes.

 _She's a tease and she knows it_.

He blinked and mustered up a smile.

"Just came to check on you, doll."

"I borrowed this shirt, I hope you don't mind."

 _Do I mind the way my shirt looks on you? Do I mind that it barely covers your ass? Do I mind that you've left half the buttons open?_

"Nah, you're all good, sugar. These your clothes? I'll put 'em in the dryer."

"Thanks, Bucky." she smiled innocently, pattering back to the kitchen and leaving a very turned on, very frustrated James Barnes in the hallway.

* * *

It was working! Natasha's concocted plan was working exactly as she said it would, and Lola made a mental note to treat her to a spa day as a token of thanks. Hoisting herself up on the counter, she mentally patted herself on the back. The look on Bucky's face had been priceless. It was fun turning the tables on him, and she had to bet Dottie had never been able to do _that_. Hearing his footsteps, she poised herself, dipping a finger into the sauce and licking it off just as he rounded the corner.

"Mm, that tastes really good, Bucky."

"Gee, thanks, doll. I was hopin' you'd like it."

"You'll have to teach me how to do it the way you do." she continued, shifting so her knee brushed the crotch of his jeans.

Bucky dropped the spoon he was holding with a loud clatter, and she jumped down to pick it up, leaning forward to give him a peek down her shirt. Tomato red, Bucky muttered a thanks and turned back to the bubbling pan.

"For a soccer player, you're good with your hands." commented Lola, gleefully cheering on the inside.

 _Keep it up, girl!_

She was- rightly- proud of herself. Natasha was worth every penny of her advice. Seduction was powerful when executed right. Bucky smiled wearily at her, and she picked up the knife.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Uh, yeah, just cut those tomatoes."

"Like this?"

"Here, I'll show you."

Standing behind her, Bucky reached his arms over, his hands enveloping Lola's as he helped her press the knife into the vegetables on the chopping board.

"Just like this." he croaked huskily, feeling her ass brush against the bulge in his jeans.

 _Yup, she can definitely feel that. Nice going, asshat._

She turned her head to look at him, smirking at how dark and lidded his eyes were.

 _Now go in for the kill!_

"What the hell is going on in here?" screeched a voice, shattering the magic of their little bubble.

"Dot?" groaned Bucky. "The hell you doin' here?"

"Well, I was bringing you dinner, like we agreed yesterday." she trilled, putting a bag of takeout on the counter. "But, I see you have company."

"Hi, Dot." called Lola cheerily.

"Hi." glowered Dottie, before turning back to Bucky. "What am I supposed to do with all this Thai food now?"

"Stay." interjected Lola, thinking fast on her feet. Bucky looked at her uncertainly.

"You sure, doll? Thought we were gonna hang out?"

"I don't mind. It'll be nice to get to know her." she replied reassuringly, running her fingers over his exposed forearm. He flashed her a smile, and looked up at Dottie.

"Guess you're third-wheeling, Dottie."

Dottie rolled her eyes, smiling for Bucky's sake. Third-wheeling?! She didn't believe Lola for one second. And God, she couldn't stand the way _her_ Bucky was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes. What was she doing wearing his shirt? Wait, had they… ?

"Dot, why don't you set the table? Bucky and I will finish cooking." Cooed Lola, stealing a crouton and giggling when Bucky pretended to swat her ass with his spatula.

Dottie held her tongue and offered a simpering smile, angrily crashing plates down on the table. It failed to get Bucky's attention, as he was busy asking Lola to taste the sauce. Dottie wanted to vomit as they both took their seats.

"So, Dot, what do you do?" Asked Lola politely, moving her chair close to Bucky's.

She smiled up at him as he served her first. It didn't escape her attention that Dottie was seething, and she silently prayed she was playing her cards right.

"I work in fashion." stated Dottie proudly.

 _Good for you, do you want a fucking medal?_

"Yeah, she just shops all day long." teased Bucky, attacking his own plate.

"Oh, we should go together sometime! I'm updating my wardrobe, and I'd love to get your advice on what to buy." quipped Lola, feigning excitement. Bucky looked delighted.

"That sounds like a neat idea! What d'you say, Dottie?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm very busy."

"Maybe another time then." offered Lola, and Dottie sneered at her.

"And what about you, Lola? Tell me, how does a billionaire's daughter end up writing for a second-rate paper?"

"Second-rate my ass." snorted Bucky. "You read what she wrote 'bout me? Ain't no way that was second-rate."

Lola grinned at him gratefully, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You really liked it?"

"Sure did, sugar. Nice to read somethin' other than 'World's sexiest man'."

"And state the obvious? Come on, you know I'm a better writer than that."

"She's right, stud. Last thing we want is someone not taking Miss. Stark seriously." agreed Dottie, with a sly grin.

"Yeah, well, I think you're doin' a swell job."

"I hope so, because I'm coming to Washington for the game." revealed Lola, and Bucky's jaw dropped, displaying his half-chewed dinner.

Lola giggled and reached out, gently closing it.

"You're shittin' me! That's amazin', doll!" he cried, pulling her into a hug.

Dottie stabbed bitterly at her plate.

"You better get used to having me around, Bucky."

"Oh, well, we'll see about that. Not exactly famous for keeping a girl around, are you, stud?" tittered Dottie.

Lola pretended to gasp.

"Don't give him ideas, Dot! Next thing you know, he'll be getting rid of you!" she joked, and Dottie shook with anger.

Bucky roared with laughter and stood up, saying something about dessert.

"Listen here, Stark." whispered Dottie furiously, Bucky's head safely in the fridge. "Whatever game you're playing, end it."

"Dottie, can I call you Dottie? I'm not playing any games." smiled Lola sweetly, taking a sip from her glass. "Why, do you feel threatened?"

"By you? As if."

"Then there's nothing to worry about. You can relax your pretty little head."

"What do you want from him? Sex? Hate to break it you, Stark, but I beat you to the punch."

"Oh, I don't just want sex. I want him. And considering he forgot all about your little dinner, I'd say he wants me too."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: My old friends become exes again**

"I don't like her." stated Dottie matter-of-factly from where she was perched on Bucky's bed.

She had been thoroughly disappointed when she turned up bright and early to give him a proper _send_ _off_ to Washington and he had turned her down. He had _never_ refused sex with her, and she fully blamed that Lola Stark for filling his handsome head with stupid ideas. Everything had been perfect until _she_ showed up and distracted him. He was always talking about _her_ and _smiling_. It made Dottie's blood boil.

"Who?" asked Bucky, stuffing a pair of pyjama pants into his sports holdall.

He had to leave soon for the team flight to Washington, so he didn't exactly appreciate Dottie turning up and demanding a roll in the sack. She looked at him now with concern.

"Lola Stark."

"Why?" he was surprised. "She's pretty darn nice to you."

"I don't trust her."

"Dottie, you don't even know her. Though, you would if you spent time with her, like she asked."

"There's something off about her."

"What, you got a spidey sense now?"

"Maybe. For all you know, she could be using you."

"Usin' me?" laughed Bucky, crossing his arms. "Dottie, she's got billions in the bank no thanks to her old man. What's she need my name and dollars for?"

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, stud." cooed Dottie, running her hands up and down his arms.

"Well, thanks for lookin' out for me, but I think I'm alright." he replied, smiling briefly before turning back to his packing.

"I've always been there for you." she continued, sitting back on the bed coquettishly. "Remember? I was there for you the last time a silly little bitch stomped all over your heart."

"Dot." said Bucky quietly. "She's not Vivian."

"I know, I know. I just don't want you to ever have to go through that again."

"I won't." he promised, more to himself than her.

"Good, because if she breaks your heart, I'll slit her throat with my Jimmy Choos." she threatened, raising an eyebrow daringly. Bucky grinned and picked up his bag.

"No sweat. Got a good feelin' about her."

* * *

Lola tapped her foot, as she waited patiently in the hotel lobby. The weather was surprisingly warm for Autumn, so she had opted for a dress and over-the-knee boots, a belt wrapped around her waist and a blazer over her shoulders. She was sweating despite the cool air-conditioning; it was a big day for her and she was determined to get things right. Peter couldn't make the trip, on account of being a minor (that, and he had homework). So, it was all down to her to get both the words and the photographs together for the article. She had her fingers, toes and everything else crossed in anticipation.

"Lola!" came a voice, and she turned, a big smile plastered across her face.

"Steve!" she cried happily, throwing herself in a hug at him.

Although they hadn't much time to hang out together, their friendship felt stronger than ever. Steve kept teasing her good-naturedly about Bucky, but she hadn't really admitted her feelings or what was going on between them. In turn, she kept badgering Steve to go on a date with Peggy's niece, Sharon. "She's cute, and totally your type." she had told him. Steve wasn't so sure, he wasn't the most confident when it came to dating. But even he knew she was wearing him down.

"What's up, sugar?" grinned Bucky, pressing a kiss to her cheek when she hugged him.

Lola tried to fight the blush creeping up her face, urging herself to be as sexy and seductive as she had been the last time she saw him.

"Hey, soccer star." she giggled, rolling her eyes at Steve who gave her a thumbs up over Bucky's shoulder.

She bit her lip to hold back a smile, as Bucky glanced over her, his eyes glued to her over-the-knee boots. It was Steve's turn to roll his eyes.

"Say, what's a pretty dame like you hangin' round a hotel for?" mused Bucky.

"I'm waiting for someone." replied Lola mysteriously, glancing around the lobby.

"Oh, yeah? Who?" he asked casually, eyes darting round to see if Thor Version Two was going to pop out of nowhere.

"I don't know yet." she answered honestly.

"You came to Washington for a blind date?" questioned Steve, and Bucky laughed nervously. "Who set you up?"

"Hello, sweetcheeks." said a voice, and Lola chuckled to herself, before turning around.

"Brock Rumlow." she grinned. "Are you my lunch date?"

"Do I look like the kind of man to turn you down?" he guffawed, sweeping her into a hug and kissing both her cheeks. Bucky cleared his throat and Rumlow snorted.

"Barnes."

"Rumlow."

"Rogers."

"Rumlow."

"You guys know each other. Of course." guessed Lola.

"I knew you were writing for The Daily Marvel, but these guys, really?" mocked Rumlow and she shot him a glare.

"Brock, be nice."

"I have to face these guys in a couple hours."

"Brock."

"Oh, alright. Only for you, though, sweetcheeks."

"I feel so privileged." she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. He guffawed again, his hand cheekily placed on her lower back.

Bucky's hands curled into fists, and he forced a smile.

"So, how do you know each other?"

"We go way back." replied Brock charmingly, flashing a hundred watt smile and Bucky narrowed his eyes.

You could practically smell the testosterone in the air.

"He played in the English league a few years ago." explained Lola. "His sister and I went to university together."

"She sure struck gold with you as her roommate."

"Hm, not sure I can say the same about interviewing you." She teased, and Bucky held back a fist pump. Brock merely laughed.

"I'll go get us a table. White wine still your favourite?"

"Not just any white wine…"

"Yeah, yeah. Sauvignon blanc. I remember. See you guys at the game."

Brock strolled away, swaggering slightly as he headed towards the hotel bar. Lola turned back to Bucky and Steve.

"He wants to sleep with you." Stated Bucky bluntly, his eyes void of any expression.

Steve's reflex was to reach out and shake his friend's shoulder violently, but Bucky brushed him off easily.

"Excuse me?" Gasped Lola.

"Oh, please, sugar. Don't act like you can't tell he's been dyin' to get in your pants since the day he met you."

"You can't know that!"

"Sure can. He's a guy, I know what he's thinkin' and it ain't roses."

"Right. Because I bet you're thinking the exact same thing." She laughed bitterly, and Bucky flushed.

"Even if he is, why does it matter?"

"'Cause- "

"Because what? Don't I get a say in this? Or do I just have to jump into bed with every guy who flirts with me?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You know what? Maybe you are the asshole that I first met."

And with that, Lola stormed away, hastily wiping the angry tears that escaped her eyes. She didn't want Bucky to see her crying. God, she was so mad at him! What was wrong with him? Why did he have to make such crude remarks? Didn't he think that she knew?

Brock had asked her out many moons ago, and she had politely turned him down. She just didn't like him in that way. He took it quite well, never being anything but nice to her regardless. He even helped her out of a few sticky situations, when drunk boys in bars simply wouldn't take no for an answer. Sure, he continued to flirt with her shamelessly, but he had never forced himself on her.

Brock was looking at her worriedly now, as she sat down across from him.

"You alright, sweetcheeks?" He questioned, pushing a glass of wine towards her.

She nodded and dug in her bag for a tissue.

"Fight with your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Someone told him that yet?" He teased, and Lola giggled. Brock smiled comfortingly. "Go on, go sort yourself out, sweetcheeks. I'm waiting right here."

"Thank you." She mumbled, pushing herself out of her chair and darting towards the ladies room.

* * *

Bucky stood in the doorway of the hotel bar, watching as Lola hurried to the bathroom with a fresh set of tears in her eyes. He was sure he could feel his heart sinking, convinced he had just done the most awful thing in the world.

"Quit starin' at me like that, Steve."

"I'm not staring at you, Buck."

"Yeah? Why'd I get the feelin' you're pissed at me then?"

"I'm not. I'm… disappointed."

"Great. 'Cause that's better."

"Do you realise what it sounded like? What you said to her?"

"Enlighten me."

"You told her that you know Rumlow just wants to sleep with her because you just want to sleep with her too."

"It came out that bad, huh?" Winced Bucky, as Lola took her seat again, fresh faced and smiling.

"Jealousy's not a good look on anyone."

"Guess your career after soccer's all figured out. Steve Rogers; relationship expert."

"Look, Bucky. I know it's been a while. But, if you care half as much as I think you do, you need to show it." Explained Steve gently. "She probably finds it just as hard to trust as you do. Fancy restaurants and the whole superstar facade isn't going to cut it for her."

"What am I meant to do?"

"You're a big boy. You'll have to work it out on your own."

Knowing he wouldn't be able to relax while he still felt like a terrible human being, Bucky lounged around in the hotel lobby for what felt like seventy years. In reality, it was only two hours, and eventually Steve came back downstairs with the rest of the team. As Sam ushered everyone on to the coach, Lola emerged from the hotel bar in a fit of laughter over something Brock was saying. Bidding him goodbye, she hugged him and made her way over to Bucky and Steve.

"Can I squeeze in a couple of questions?" She asked cheekily. "We're an hour away from the most fiercely rivalled game, how are you feeling?"

Bucky made to open his mouth but she cut across him like a knife.

"Captain only."

Clamping his mouth shut again, he patiently waited for her to scribble down Steve's response. Before he could get in his apology, she had flounced away again. Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"You're gonna have to work a little harder than that pal."

* * *

Lola's mood perked up considerably as the day went on. Taking the opportunity in her stride (and fuelling it with the rage Bucky had stirred), she had managed to speak to Baron von Strucker (D.C. United's coach), Alexander Pierce and even Nick Fury, who had offered her a seat in his premium box. He had been pleasantly surprised when she declined, commenting that he approved of her taking her job so seriously. Hiding her sheer delight, Lola had asked him if he would mind answering a few questions after the game ended and to her relief, he had agreed.

It was an intense game to say the least. Of course, the New York Red Bulls and D.C. United were each other's nemesis, but hearing about their rivalry and seeing it first hand were two different experiences altogether. Both teams were positively brutal, tackles flying in left, right and centre. Even Bucky, who was normally fast on his feet, took a few hits and Lola almost forgot she was still mad at him.

The first half ended without any goals, both teams fairly well matched. But the tension continued inside the tunnel, where she hung around hoping to pick up on anything that would be useful for her report. Bucky caught her eye as he emerged from the away team's changing room. For a second, she thought he was going to come over to her, but then Brock appeared out of nowhere, and he strode away, a look on his face that she couldn't figure out.

Three goals later, Lola finally understood what the look on Bucky's face had been. Determination. Somehow summoning the strength, he had single-handedly destroyed D.C. United with what was commonly known as a 'hattrick'. And with each and every goal he knocked in, he had raced round the pitch, kissing his knuckles and pointing at _her_ , just as he had done at her first match. By the time he scored his third and final goal, he lifted his fingers into a little heart shape, thawing the tension between them. She had blushed back at him and he had grinned, before his team threw themselves at him and he found himself with Steve's crotch in his face. Not exactly the celebratory position he had in mind.

Rumlow came jogging over to Bucky when the match finished. The New York Red Bulls had won, three goals to nil, all thanks to James Buchanan Barnes. He felt elated, like a balloon, his joy at winning the game and winning Lola over making him fly over the grass rather than walk. But Brock's expression made him stop in his tracks. To his enormous surprise, Brock reached out a hand and shook Bucky's.

"Congratulations, Barnes." he said stoically. "Hate to admit it, but you played a good game."

"Thanks, man." he replied uncertainly, convinced Rumlow was playing a prank.

"Sorted things with your girl yet?"

 _The fuck is it your business for?_

"Uh…"

"Relax, I can see she's crazy about your dumb ass. Make it up to her, and she really will be your girl."

"Right."

 _Alright, he's not a total dick._

"Actually, I think I know how you can."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Don't fuck with my love**

When Bucky said he wanted to make it up to her, this was definitely not what she had imagined. Lola leant against the Audi R8 that Tony had let her borrow. With it being Thanksgiving weekend, most of the country had come to a halt. Normally, she would have spent her time with family in New York, but, everyone seemed to be busy. Natasha's family were in town; Jarvis had taken time off to return to England; and even Tony was in LA- although, who he was with remained a mystery. So, Lola decided she would take a long overdue trip out to the Hamptons to see her grandparents… with Bucky.

It had Brock's name written all over it, seeing as he had been the only one Lola told her weekend plans to. Nonetheless, she smiled at her ankle boots, appreciating Brock's gesture of goodwill. And she was equally chuffed that Bucky had offered to do something like this. A serial dater willing to spend the weekend with her grandparents? As Natasha so eloquently put it; "Honey. That shit is serious." So, here she was, dressed in denim shorts and a Breton striped t-shirt, waiting for him outside his building. Oh, and there was the tiny fact that she had been daring enough to wear his leather jacket; the one that had been occupying her wardrobe for quite some time.

Speak of the devil… Bucky emerged from his building, his overnight bag hanging from his left hand and a lopsided grin on his face. His floppy hair moved with the wind, the long ends catching on his stubble.

 _How is it possible for a mere mortal to look so sexy in a simple white t-shirt? I know it's tight on his muscles… oh, I could lick those muscles. And those jeans, I could definitely squeeze his thighs right now to see if they feel as good as they look._

"Hey, sugar." greeted Bucky, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.

 _God, that cologne makes me want to inhale him forever._

"You look gorgeous. 'Specially in that leather jacket." he winked knowingly at her, letting a hand slide down her arm.

"Thank you." She blushed. "You look really good too, Bucky."

"Ready to get this party started?"

"Let's go, soccer star!"

Bucky whistled as he did up his seat belt, running his hands admiringly over the R8's interior. It was a little too extravagant for Lola's taste, meaning it was perfect for Tony's.

"Sweet wheels. You're a little daredevil."

Lola raised an eyebrow and revved the engine noisily. "Little?" she cheeked, putting the car into gear and zooming off. She kept up the speed well onto the highway, adrenaline coursing through her. Bucky exhaled loudly and glanced at her.

"Too rough for you, soccer star? I thought that's how you like it?" giggled Lola, slowing down.

She reached over Bucky and dug around in the glove compartment, as he inhaled sharply at the way she was draped over him.

"Geez, sugar." he breathed, and she simply winked in response. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled, grabbing the steering wheel when she let go to plug in her iPod.

"Oh, relax, soccer star." she laughed, pushing him off and taking the wheel again.

"You're gonna kill me."

"No, I won't. Not yet." she teased, fiddling with her iPod as she tried to find her favourite playlist to drive to. She sped up and Bucky swore loudly.

"I'd feel a lot safer if you had both hands on the wheel." he grumbled.

Lola dropped the iPod into the cup holder and gazed at him, ghosting her fingers over his thigh.

"Now where's the fun in that?" she mewled, her fingers dancing higher and higher up his leg.

Bucky threw his head back against the headrest.

 _Shit, is she really gonna do this?_

"ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!"

Lola howled with laughter, clutching her stomach as the R8 came to a halt. Bucky had just gotten comfortable, his excitement rising, and she had lifted both her hands to the roof of the car and slammed down on the brake, sending the car on an almighty roll down the empty stretch of tarmac, before it came to a halt. Bucky whipped his head round to glare at her, only managing to look like a deer caught in headlights. She giggled and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Bucky, are you okay?" she managed to titter.

"Gee, I don't know, I mean, you just tried to fuckin' kill me!"

"Relax, breathe!" she ordered, resting a hand on his thigh comfortingly. "I promise you, you weren't going to die."

"Yeah? Tell that to my heart!"

Lola stared at him, before starting the car up again and continuing their journey; this time a tad slower.

"The car wasn't going to anywhere but in a straight line." she stated.

"What, you a psychic now, doll?"

"Modern cars have better handling than we give them credit for."

"How'd you know so much about cars?"

"Steve and I drove some laps at a track when we took that road trip."

"You and Steve are pretty close, huh?"

"Is that a statement or a _please_ _tell_ _me_ _more_?"

Lola picked up her iPod again and glanced at Bucky, who was visibly more relaxed after she had pulled her little stunt.

"Bit o' both." he admitted, and she smiled warmly at his honest answer.

"I'll tell you," she promised. "After this song."

"What so- oh, hell no!" he cried, as Lola shimmied her shoulders.

" _I know you love me_!"

"Please don't."

" _I know you care!_ "

"Please, sugar."

" _Just shout whenever, and I'll be there_!"

"You're embarassin' me here!" he groaned, as she sung along loudly to Justin Bieber, dancing her shoulders this way and that as if she was singing to him. And then, she did the worst thing possible; rolling down her window as they passed another car.

"Hey! Do you know the soccer player, Bucky Barnes? He's in this car and listening to Justin Bieber!"

"I hate you." glowered Bucky, sinking as far as down in his seat as he could.

Lola giggled at him, and he smiled despite himself. It was such a delightful laugh, how could he not? She just looked so happy in the moment, and truthfully, she was far more fun to be stuck in a car with for a few hours than Dottie. But, she took pity on him and handed him her iPod.

"Steve's my oldest friend." she said thoughtfully, as Bucky tried to find a song that was more rock 'n' roll for his liking.

"Yeah, he said you've seen him all scrawny." he smiled, settling on Bon Jovi.

"Soccer was the best thing that ever happened to him." she agreed. "Apart from me, of course."

"So, you two…"

"Dated? I guess. I don't know if I can really call it that. It was the summer before I started university, and I had broken up with my boyfriend."

* * *

" _It's so beautiful out here." breathed Lola, lying back on the blanket next to Steve, who grunted in response._

 _They lay in comfortable silence, two friends, their eyes gazing at the starry night sky. There weren't enough words that did justice to just how beautiful the inky blue sky looked, peppered with blinking stars. It was a warm night, and despite her light sundress, Lola could feel the stickiness on her skin. The stereo played away softly from Steve's truck, and she smiled, feeling happier than she had in weeks._

" _This is what you'll be missing out on in England." said Steve, interrupting the hush._

" _We live in New York- we miss out on this already." laughed Lola._

" _I didn't mean just the stars." he said quietly, and she turned her head to see him looking back at her, a sad smile on his lips._

" _Are you getting all soppy on me, Steve Rogers?"_

" _Hey, you are my best friend."_

" _I thought you were replacing me with that new guy." she teased and he furrowed his brows._

" _There's no replacing you, Lola."_

 _A smile spread across her face, and she lay on her side to look at him properly, as he turned his attention back to the stars._

 _"I'm going to miss you, Steve."_

" _Who's getting soppy now?"_

" _Shut up."_

" _I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and Johnny." said Steve, laying on his side too. Lola merely smiled back at him._

" _It was for the best." she told him. "We're going to be on two separate continents. It's too much."_

" _Are you sure that's the only reason?"_

" _Okay, he's a fame hungry douche bag too."_

" _Uh huh."_

" _He's an idiot." whispered Steve._

 _Lola was suddenly aware of just how close he was and how there was the faintest fleck of green in his baby blue eyes. There was a loud drumming noise, and she wasn't sure if it was her heart or his._

" _Lola?"_

" _Yeah?"_

" _Can I kiss you?"_

" _Okay."_

 _Steve inched closer to her under the sparkling night. There was a blush on his cheeks, visible under the starlight. She could sense his hesitancy as his lips brushed hers a few times. What if this changed everything? He looked in her eyes, finding permission there. It was sweet. There was something warm and safe about the way he kissed her with comfort and longing under California's night sky._

* * *

"I love him." stated Lola, smiling at the road ahead. "But, I was never _in_ love with him. We wanted different things in life. I wanted to have fun at university. I wanted to go out, spend my summers travelling, kiss some English boys. Steve wanted to settle down as he started his soccer career, have someone to come home to every day after training and games. I wasn't there."

"And now?"

"Now, he's my best friend. I don't think I could get naked with him in the back of his truck again!"

"You're shittin' me. Steve lost his virginity in the back of his truck to you?!"

"Under the starry night sky! It was very romantic, okay!"

"Damn, Steve." whistled Bucky, grinning at her.

She looked back at him uncertainly, but he smiled reassuringly. He didn't feel the slightest pang of jealousy. Truth be told, he was happy that Steve had had the chance to be with someone who really cared about him. And as for Lola, it wasn't a competition and she wasn't a prize to be won. He appreciated her honesty, and he truly believed there was nothing between those two anymore.

"Vivian." said Bucky, staring out the window. "She's the reason I don't date fans."

Lola looked at him curiously. He gave her a short smile, before fiddling with her iPod again. He wanted to be honest with her. But he hadn't spoken about Vivian in such a long time, burying her so deep down, he wasn't sure what to say.

"You don't have to tell me. Not if you don't want to." said Lola quickly, glancing at him.

"I want to."

Bucky leant back in his seat, deep in thought. "I met her when I moved back to New York. She was real pretty and I fell hard for her." he said, remembering her curly hair and bright eyes perfectly, despite the many years that had passed.

"At first, it was amazin'. And then, six months down the line, she turns round and tells me she's pregnant." his voice wavered slightly, but he kept going. "It didn't add up. I know us soccer players ain't the smartest guys around, but the math weren't right. I broke it off. She came back a month later sayin' she lost the baby."

Lola stayed silent, giving him the space he needed. He breathed audibly a couple of times, before looking up from his lap.

"Turns out she was just lookin' for some quick money and fame. After that, bein' serious with a girl just didn't seem to matter. 'S why Dottie was perfect, she's pretty loaded and don't want nothin' serious either."

Lola bit her lip, noting how he said she _was_ perfect, and not she _is_ perfect.

 _Dear God, if you're listening, please let that be a sign!_

Bucky's head jerked up at Lola's touch. She had placed a hand on him again, a smile on her face that felt genuine and made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. She didn't look at him sympathetically- Jesus Christ, he hated it when people did that- and instead, gave him a look that said she understood him. In that moment, something had changed. There was no denying their physical attraction, but now, it felt like more. That precious few minutes of honesty had opened up a whole new door.

* * *

It was a quaint little house in the quiet streets of East Hampton. Albeit, a little smaller than Bucky was expecting- it was home to a pair of Starks after all. But, it made sense to him. To be old and have only your other half, a small cottage-esque house where you can relax and simply enjoy each other's company must be nice. The bricks were a light colour, the doors and windows painted a matte white. Large trees surrounded the land, and a small car was parked in the driveway.

"I have to tell you," warned Lola, trudging up the path to the front door; Bucky in tow carrying their bags. "My grandparents are crazy. I love them, but they're total nutjobs."

"Guess I'll find out where you get your crazy from." he winked, as she pushed her key in the front door.

He chuckled as she shot him a glare, stepping aside to let him in. Throwing her jacket on the coat rack, she marched towards the back of the house.

It was all open plan downstairs, but the Starks had made it very cosy. The kitchen was fitted with modern appliances, and had two bar stools around the island in the middle. There was a proper dining table next to the French doors that lead out to the conservatory. A L-shaped couch faced the fireplace, the other side of the living space filled with bookshelves and cosy reading chairs.

"Grandmama? Pops?"

"Is that my little granddaughter?" called a little old woman, poking her head through the conservatory door.

She was wearing a dress, neatly tailored with matching shoes. Pearls sat in her ears and around her neck, her brilliant white hair pulled into a neat bun. Her painted red lips curled into a smile and she held out her arms. Lola laughed and let herself be pulled into a hug.

"I'm not exactly little anymore, Grandmama."

"Nonsense, you're tiny. You need feeding by the looks of it, the turkey's in the oven so you'll have to wait!" she said cheerily, patting Lola's cheeks. "Howard, get up now, will you, dear? Look, who's here!"

An old man with white hair and a full moustache lowered his newspaper, easing himself out of his armchair.

"Well, if it isn't my Lolabug." his stern face softened into a gentle smile and Lola threw herself at him, hugging him tightly until he complained she was creasing the new shirt he had put on just for her. He ruffled her hair, chortling when she scowled and put his hands in his pockets.

"And who might you be, young man?" asked Howard, the stern expression back on his face.

Bucky straightened up and held out his hand.

"James, sir. Pleasure to meet you."

"James, huh?" mulled Howard, shaking Bucky's hand firmly. "And what are your intentions with my granddaughter?"

"Pops!"

"Howard!"

Maria swatted at Howard, pushing him aside so she could greet Bucky, whose eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates.

"It's lovely to meet you, dear." she smiled, pulling him down to kiss his cheeks. "I'm Maria, but you can call me Grandmama- all the kids do."

"Sir is fine with me."

"Howard! Shoo! Lola, take your grandfather and go buy some milk before the store closes. Off you go now! James, you stay with me. I need a big strong man to help me." she cooed, squeezing Bucky's biceps.

He looked at Lola amusedly.

"Whatever you need, Grandmama."

Lola giggled as she crept out the kitchen, pulling Howard along with her. The front door slammed shut, and Maria bustled about her cupboards, lading Bucky's arms with plates and cutlery.

"I hope you don't mind spending Thanksgiving with us, James. We aren't keeping you from your family, are we?"

"Not at all. Thanks for havin' me over."

"Oh, it's no trouble, dear. It's nice to finally meet the man Lola has been keeping secret for so long!"

"Uh…"

"Now, don't try to tell me otherwise. You don't just bring a man home for no reason." she smiled good naturedly, switching the kettle on and taking out a tin of teabags. Bucky chuckled.

"You're real perceptive, you know that?"

"Yes, well, we women tend to be." she laughed back, taking the stool he offered her. "Now, tell me how you plan to woo her."

"I don't really know, Grandmama." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fancy's not gonna cut it, it needs to be special, ya know?"

"You're very right, James. Never you mind, we'll think of something."

* * *

"How's life in the Big Apple?" asked Howard, as they strolled through the grocery store.

"Maybe you should come visit and I'll show you." cheeked Lola, picking up a carton of milk.

"Don't bullshit me, Stark. Barnes, what's he doing in my kitchen?"

"So you _do_ watch soccer!"

"Yeah, well, I'm retired."

"I would never have guessed!"

"Alright, enough of the sass. Tell me why there's a soccer player making gaga eyes at you."

"Pops, can you please be nice?"

"Why, you like this guy?"

"If I did?"

"Then I'd say it's about damn time you told the little bastard. Just no messing around under my roof, alright? I might be old, but I still remember how to make a shotgun."

"I love our pep talks."

"Wait 'til you're married and putting a great grandchild in my arms. They get better then."

"I know you're retired, but you really need to get out more."

* * *

"We're back!" called Lola.

There was laughter echoing from the kitchen and she looked at Howard. He shrugged back at her and marched forward.

"Maria?"

"In here, dear!" she called from the kitchen island, where she was sat poring over a book with Bucky.

"What are you guys looking at?" Lola questioned, crossing her arms.

Bucky grinned at her, sweeping his hair away from his face. He cocked his head to the side.

"Gee, I dunno, Grandmama. I think she could still rock pink braces."

Lola promptly turned strawberry red, as Bucky burst out laughing.

"Grandmama! No, you didn't!" she gasped, running over and snatching up the photo album open on the table.

"Oh, come on, doll! I like the pink braces!"

"You both are banned from this album."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Lolabug." said Howard soothingly. "We'll just share stories instead. You know she tried to kiss a boy once with those metal monstrosities? Tried to be all sneaky about it and he got his lip caught in them. Blood everywhere."

"I hate you all!"

Lola grumbled her way through Thanksgiving, stabbing at her turkey with a gloomy raincloud hanging over her head. Bucky tried to cheer her up, snuggling up beside her on the couch as they watched the football game. She huffed at him and crossed her arms, watching the screen in stony silence. He tried to talk to her, but she barely acknowledged him. Tactics not working, he looked at Maria, desperate for help.

"James, dear, why don't I show you to your room?" offered Maria, heading up the stairs and beckoning him to follow her.

Bucky glanced at Lola once last time, before following Maria.

"You're not sayin' the bedroom is how I woo her, are you?" he whispered, not quite believing that he was really having this conversation with a senior citizen. Maria looked at him blankly.

"Does that not work anymore?"

"Okay then…"

"Just don't let Howard catch you."

 _Jesus, I hope she's not actually pissed at me._

Bucky dully brushed his teeth, worried he had fluffed it already.

 _Way to go, dickhead._

Determined to set things right, he pulled on a pair of pyjama pants and lay in bed with the book about motorcycles Howard had lent to him. It felt like he had been waiting for hours, when the bedroom door finally creaked open and Lola slipped through it, her clothes draped over her arm and her face scrubbed free of make-up.

 _Shit, is that all she's gonna wear to bed?_

Lola ignored him and pattered around the room, the hem of her nightshirt swaying around her thighs. Bucky swallowed and put the book aside, pulling back the duvet for her. She glared at him and climbed into bed, rolling over so her back was to him. Her hand reached out to switch the lamp off, engulfing them in darkness. Bucky lay still for a moment.

"You're not mad at me, are you, doll?" he whispered into the darkness.

There was no answer. Bucky scooted closer over to Lola's side of the bed, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her against his bare chest. She squeaked and he pressed his lips to her ear.

"Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Sure seem like it. I'm sorry, sugar. I didn't mean to get you all mad. I thought you looked real cute with those pink braces."

"I looked awful."

"Nah, no chance! You wanna know who looked awful? Me, when I was sixteen. Jesus Christ, my mom let me dye my hair platinum blonde."

"You dyed your hair platinum blonde?" she giggled, relaxing against his chest.

"Yeah. Worst part was I thought I looked the bees' knees."

"I think I need to see a photo."

"No way, not happening. It'll ruin the illusion."

"You saw my pink braces. It's only fair."

"Will you forgive me if I do?"

"Hm. I guess."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: On the edge of paradise**

There was a small gap in the curtains, allowing the tiniest streak of sunshine to penetrate through into the otherwise dark bedroom. It shone right on Bucky's face. He tried to ignore it at first, but, he felt too awake. He shifted slightly, so his face was out the sun before opening his eyes. A smile played on the corners of his lips.

Lola was still fast asleep, her brown hair fanned around her. Bucky gently moved the stray locks away from her face, and she moaned in her sleep, shuffling closer to him until her head was on his pillow and her hands pressed against his chest. Bucky felt perfectly peaceful and rather content, as he shamelessly tangled his legs with hers. He could feel the silkiness of her skin, as he ran his fingers over the contours of her body, enjoying the way her eyelashes fluttered at his touch. He brought his hand up to her cheek, lazily tracing her lips with his thumb.

 _Sure could get used to this every mornin'._

And then, without really thinking about it, Bucky tipped her chin up, pressing his lips to Lola's in a gentle kiss. It was soft and sweet, and he quickly pulled back, fearful that she might wake up and scold him for being a creep. But, a soft sigh left her lips, barely audible, and Bucky froze; her lips finding his, as she kissed him back.

The pillow shifted as she moved, her brown eyes fluttering open. A sleepy smile greeted him, and he smiled back, combing his fingers through her hair. Lola hummed contently, leaning into his touch.

Bucky hesitated, before closing the distance between them again. He kissed her once more, slowly and with purposeful nips of his tongue until she was arching into him with need. Unable to bear it any longer, she moaned into his mouth and scratched her fingernails down his chest, urging him to kiss her harder. Smiling against her lips, he obliged as his fingers traced shapes over the soft skin of her thighs.

They broke apart, gasping for air and looking at each other hungrily with lust blown eyes, wondering if this was all really happening or if they were still asleep, merely dreaming that they were about to do what they both desperately wanted.

"Bucky?" Breathed Lola, her fingers raising goosebumps on their path over his chest and arms. She tugged at the waistband of his pyjama pants, biting her lip when she felt how hard he was. "Please."

A sigh escaped his lips, as he leant forward and captured her lips in another searing kiss, before he trailed them down her neck, taking his time to find her most sensitive spots. Her hands were tugging at his hair urgently, as she shuddered beneath him, gasping as he sucked at the skin where her neck met her shoulder.

He knew she wanted this just as much as he did, and the way she whimpered his name was almost his undoing. But, he didn't want it fast and rough, not right now at the very least. There would be plenty of time for that later. Besides, that's how it always with other girls. But this? This was different.

Lola giggled as Bucky kicked off his pyjama pants and rolled on to his back, pulling her on top of him. Straddling his waist, she ran her fingers over the length of his chest, tracing the outline of the muscles she found there. His own hands creeped up her shirt, grasping hold of her hips and languidly, almost torturously, grinding her against him. She purred and he flashed her a lopsided grin, bringing his fingers up to undo the buttons on her shirt.

Her shirt landed next to his pyjamas pants, and she lifted her hips to let him tug her underwear off. Her cheeks had turned pink under his lustful gaze, his blue eyes darkening until they were almost black. He gave her hips a reassuring squeeze and she squealed, leaning down to kiss him. She giggled when her hair fell over his face, and sweeping it to one side, she kissed her way along his sharp jawline, the scruff scratching her already swollen lips.

He stopped her when she made to move her lips further south, and she looked up at him worriedly.

"No," he whispered huskily, his fingers finding themselves between her legs. "I just wanna…" he trailed off, and she kissed him again in understanding. She sat up slowly, his hands guiding her down on to him.

His name fell from her lips as she sunk down on to him, her own name catching in his throat as he struggled to think straight. His thighs felt powerful beneath her, and she leant back, resting her hands there as she adjusted to him. His fingers roaming her breasts brought her back to the moment, and she moved slowly, drawing a groan from him. She set a slow pace, her head dizzy with pleasure as his hands caressed every inch of her they could reach. The way he looked beneath her made her heart flutter, his muscles covered in a layer of sweat and his eyes raking over her wildly.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, his hands grasped at her hips, moving her faster. Her eyes were locked with his, the brown of them ablaze with passion. It was almost sinful, the way she would bite her lip to hold back her moans, her fingernails digging into his chest to make up for it. He could feel she was close, the pleasure etched on her face only sparking his, as she found her high first and he followed.

Bucky's chest was heaving, as Lola lay down on it, purring contently as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. A happy exhaustion settled over them both, and he ran his fingers down her back soothingly. She giggled when the pad of his thumb tickled her waist, and he smiled into her hair, savouring the sound.

"'S been a while since I did this." he said softly, when he found his voice again.

"Had a naked girl on top of you?" she teased, and his fingers found her ticklish spot again. She squirmed, and he relented, wrapping his arms around her.

"Cuddled." he admitted.

"What, none of your other lady friends want to snuggle up to this hunk of muscle?"

"Is that what you are now? My lady friend?"

"What do you want me to be?"

Bucky lay there silently. He knew what he wanted to say and he knew what she wanted him to say. But, he didn't know how to say it aloud. Lola cleared her throat awkwardly, and sat up, muttering about going to take a shower. His eyes followed her as she pulled her shirt back on, avoiding him carefully. Making his mind up, he jumped out of bed and was behind her in a few short strides, shutting the door as she opened it.

"How 'bout you be my date tonight?" he asked, his heart thumping at an alarming rate.

She whirled around and looked up at him in surprise. Bucky sighed, as ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Look, sugar, this mornin', just now, it was more than just… I wanna do it again, but properly, ya know?"

She looked back at him blankly and he sighed, trying to piece the right words together, terrified he would say the wrong thing.

"I don't just want a quick fuck from you, aright?" he explained tentatively. "I wanna take you out, watch movies with you, d'you see what I'm gettin' at here?"

"Bucky Barnes, are you asking me out?"

"Only if you're gonna say yes." he cheeked and she giggled, standing on her toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Well, that depends on where you're going to take me for dinner."

"Your Grandmama tells me there's a real nice Italian place overlookin' a lake round here."

"That sounds promising."

"She also told me there's a quiet spot under a willow tree."

"Very romantic."

"It's where your old man was conceived."

"You are disgusting, Bucky Barnes!"

Outside, Maria had her ear pressed to the bedroom door, as she heard Bucky burst into laughter, Lola bickering with him about how she was going to have to shower with bleach now. Howard rolled his eyes and sipped at the cup of tea in his hands as his wife looked at him triumphantly.

"See, dear, I told you, a little love making solves everything!"

The two grandparents hurried away downstairs when the door opened, Lola squealing as Bucky threw her over his shoulder and marched to the bathroom, her fists hammering on his muscular back as she yelled at him to put her down. Maria sung along to the radio delightedly, as she set about preparing breakfast. Howard, less than pleased with what was happening right under his nose excused himself to the garage, to tinker away at the 1940s motorcycle he had stashed in there. His eyes rolled of their own accord when he heard his wife coo at the lovebirds who had finally made it downstairs and buried his head back in the engine. He paused, waiting for the call of his wife, and sure enough, there was her voice. Sighing, he wiped his oil-greased hands cleans and headed back to the kitchen.

Howard smiled at the scene he found in his kitchen. Maria was watering her plants, smiling fondly over her shoulder at Lola pouring out four cups of tea, who kept glancing in Bucky's direction, blushing profusely when their eyes met. She quickly busied herself with the milk jug, as Bucky chuckled to himself and flipped some eggs on to plates. His eyes would flick up every now and again, following her around the kitchen as a content smile crossed his face. All that was missing was Tony.

* * *

Bucky had been missing for half the day. Well, _missing_ perhaps was too strong a word. Howard had invited him to take a look at the motorcycle, and that had been the end of that. The two could be heard discussing engines and exhausts, Howard occasionally using his stern voice, as if he would suddenly remember he was keeping up the cold, unimpressed grandfather front. And just like that, the day flew by. The two men in the garage, and the two women snuggled on the couch playing cards. Lola thought Bucky might reappear seeing as their date was in five minutes, but so far, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him.

Facing the mirror, she tousled her chestnut brown hair just so, making sure it looked effortlessly messy rather than too polished. She had decided to leave it down; the tips of her hair skimmed along her white lace dress. The dress clung to her curves just enough to get his pulse raising, but was loose enough to let her breathe and eat. The sleeves ended just under her elbows, and the hem reached her knees. Maria had helped her choose it, claiming it was made just for her, to which Lola had replied that it had in fact been made just for her upon request. She only hoped it Bucky would like it.

A knock sounded on the door, and Lola eyed the white wood curiously from the mirror. There was a second knock, and she crossed the room, opening the door to find Bucky standing there, a bunch of red roses clutched in his fist. He had his trademark charming grin on his face, but there was a trace of nervousness in the blue of his eyes, as he ran his fingers through his long hair. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, which sat like a second-skin on the expanse of his muscled torso, and she almost wondered on how earth he had managed to squeeze a waistcoat on top of all that.

 _Holy shit, he looks delicious. Whatever you do, do not reach out and squeeze his biceps._

"Evenin', sugar. Say, you look real beautiful." Bucky grinned, as smooth as ever. He held out the red roses. "Got you these."

"Thank you, Bucky." smiled Lola, taking the flowers from him. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. "You look very handsome."

Lola swore she saw him blush, and she giggled to herself as she picked her purse off the bed and followed him down the stairs. Howard and Maria were sat in their respective armchairs, with their crosswords and crocheting, the radio buzzing away softly behind them. The two old grandparents visibly resisted the urge to snap their heads up at the sound of Lola's heels. Maria bit back a smile as she peered at them plop the roses in a vase, her eyes quickly dipping back down to her crochet needles as they spun around towards the front door. Lola stared at them knowingly.

"Goodnight, grandmama. Goodnight, pops."

"Goodnight, dear."

"Night, Stark."

The front door slammed shut and Howard sighed, looking down at his crossword to avoid the watchful gaze of his wife.

"Don't you say it, Maria."

"I told you lovemaking would sort it out."

* * *

Lola smiled at Bucky, taking his offered hand to climb out the cab, praying that she wouldn't accidentally flash him her underwear. But, she managed it in one graceful slide thankfully. Hoping that she wasn't crossing the line, she slid her small hand into Bucky's much larger one, and much to her happy surprise, he intertwined their fingers and smiled at her goofily as they walked up the pathway to the restaurant.

"Good evening." said the hostess monotonously, without looking up from her little podium. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Sure do. Uh, should be under the name of Barnes." answered Bucky, and the hostess looked up so fast it was a wonder she didn't strain her neck. Her jaw dropped and she quickly snapped it shut, offering a simpering smile in its stead.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure to meet you." she chirped, her voice suddenly full of sugary sweetness.

Lola wanted to vomit. Preferably all over the hostess, who was still drooling over Bucky.

"It's so lovely of you to drop by! If I had known you were in the Hamptons I would have invited you to the restaurant myself."

"Uh, thanks. Place looks amazin', can't wait to try the food." he replied politely.

"I assure you, everything here is _delicious_."

 _That's it. No more nice Lola._

"I'm sure it is." interjected Lola, spinning around to face Bucky. She peered up at him through her eyelashes and slowly rubbed her breasts against his arm. "Save room for dessert, won't you, James?" she whispered, loud enough for the hostess to hear.

Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. Bucky blinked back, and the hostess cleared her throat noisily, plastering a fake smile on her face.

"Follow me, I have your table ready for you."

Lola smirked her to herself as she strutted after the hostess, leading Bucky by the hand. She made sure to sway her hips a little, and the prickle on the back of her neck told her his ocean blue eyes were boring into her ass with every step of her high heels.

Their table was on the deck, overlooking the lake under the twinkling night sky. Candles were dotted everywhere, bathing everything in a romantic light. It was beautiful and intimate.

"Let me get that for you, sugar." said Bucky, pulling out a chair.

Lola pressed another kiss to his cheek before taking her seat, making the hostess scowl. She muttered something about returning to take their order and stomped away.

"Sorry." apologised Bucky, and Lola looked at him, puzzled.

"For what?"

"Her. Flirtin' an all. Jesus, that makes me sound like an asshole. _Sorry, sugar, I can't help it I'm so darn attractive_. No, I mean, tonight's meant to be 'bout us. 'Bout you. Look at you, you're gorgeous. Jesus, I'm talkin' too much, aren't I?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're nervous, soccer star."

"Is it that obvious? Jesus Christ, I can't remember the last time I was nervous round a girl." he chuckled embarrassedly, making her giggle. "But, you ain't just any girl. I kinda like you."

"Well, you're in luck. I kinda like you too."

Bucky grinned and reached across the table, enveloping her soft hand in his calloused one. Lola's blush was visible even in the dim light, and she silently begged the butterflies in her tummy to calm down.

"Are you ready to place your order?" simpered the hostess, deadening the butterflies instantly. Bucky nodded at her to go first, and Lola glanced at her menu.

"I'll have the seabass."

"And you, Mr. Barnes?"

"Yes, _Mr. Barnes_." smiled Lola, dipping forward, biting her lip when Bucky's eyes widened at the glimpse of her cleavage. "See anything you like?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: She was so shy 'til I drive her wild**

"Bucky." moaned Lola, squirming where she sat on the couch, swathed in the late afternoon light that poured through the enormous windows of Bucky's apartment.

"Yeah, sugar?" he smirked, his lips continuing their assault.

"I really need to work on this, okay?"

"An' I really wanna work on you."

"You're a charmer, Mr. Barnes. But, seriously. This interview with Brock is due tomorrow."

"That's one hell of a way to kill the mood, sugar." sighed Bucky, burying his face in her neck. She giggled and ruffled his hair apologetically.

"Hey, if it wasn't for Brock- "

"Yeah, yeah."

"Exactly. So, why don't you let me finish this, and when I'm done, I'll work on you all night long."

"Now you're talkin', doll."

Bucky huffed and plopped himself down on the couch, pulling Lola as close to him as he could. He rested his chin on her shoulder, reading as she typed and edited the words on her laptop screen. It had been two weeks since Thanksgiving, and normal life had resumed. With the addition of their new found couple label, of course. Although, they were doing their best to keep their relationship as private as they could.

Bucky had had a training session early that morning to prepare for the game the day after next. It was the last game before the Christmas break, and they needed to secure a win to ensure they were a full six points clear at the top of the league table for the festive period. Training had been intense, so Bucky had taken her out for lunch afterwards. She had insisted she need to get back to work, but he had used his _powers_ _of_ _persuasion_ and two hours later, it was safe to say she wouldn't be returning to the office that day.

Instead, Lola had donned his abandoned t-shirt and swept her hair up in a messy bun, commandeering one of his many couches to finish her piece. Bucky found it rather distracting, and endearing, the way her brows would furrow as she stared intently at the laptop screen; her ever-so-slightly smudged mascara and wild hair evidence of his mind-blowing lovemaking.

Lola, equally, found herself distracted by Bucky, but she was much more subtle with her glances. Did he have to walk around in just a pair of shorts? His muscles proudly on display and his hair tousled from the many times she had pulled at it when he did that one particular thing with his tongue that she liked so much.

Bucky looked at her now, sheer determination written on his face. Flicking through the channels on the television, he tried to act as casual as he possibly could.

"So, uh, I was thinkin'." he said nonchalantly, pretending to be absorbed in a _Friends_ rerun.

"Uh oh, did you over exert yourself?" teased Lola, giggling when he tickled her in response.

"Ain't you a funny little thing, sugar."

"I'm sorry. What were you thinking?"

"Uh, maybe you wanna come to my next game?" he said, feeling his heart begin to thump loudly.

"Of course, I'm coming! I have a Press Pass, remember, soccer star?"

"No, not as a journalist." he shook his head and hesitated, before reaching behind the couch. He pulled out a bag that bore the New York Red Bulls emblem on it and placed it down in front of her. "I mean… as my girlfriend."

Lola whirled around to look at him, and Bucky quickly turned his attention back to the episode of _Friends_ on the television. He watched from the corner of his eye as she reached into the bag and took out the neatly folded jersey inside; one that bore his name and number.

 _Shit. This was a shit idea. Abandon ship._

She reached out and squeezed his hand, an enormous smile spreading across her face.

"I'd love to come as your girlfriend."

"Bet you would love to come, sugar." he joked and she rolled her eyes.

"To your game, silly. Wearing this."

"Yeah?" he breathed, his shoulders sinking as relief washed over him. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Why is it weird?"

"Well, my family's gonna be there. I have a box. An' they really wanna come to the game. An' my Ma, boy, she's nuts. I mighta told her 'bout you, an' she wants to meet you. Jesus Christ."

"Bucky!" cried Lola, pushing her laptop aside and climbing into his lap.

She wrapped her arms around him and combed her fingers through his knotted hair soothingly.

"Relax! I'd love to come to your game and meet your family."

"You pullin' my leg? 'Cause if it's too much..."

"It's not. It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So… you really want me to be your girlfriend?"

" _Jesus_ _Christ_. That's all you took from that?"

Lola giggled and ran her fingers up and down his chest, tracing the definition of muscles before sweeping back up to where his tattoo began on his left shoulder and continued over his bulging bicep. It was always peeking out from under his short sleeved t-shirts, but the few times she had been in close proximity to a shirtless Bucky, she had always been a little too preoccupied to interrogate him about it. There were lines that across his upper arm, black and silver, that looked like metal plates tailored to fit on his arm. A red star sat neatly in the middle of it all. It was his only tattoo.

"When did you get this?" she asked, outlining the red star with her index finger.

"Back in Moscow. Must've been 'bout sixteen?"

"Sixteen!"

"Yeah, I was a lil punk back then." he chuckled, looking at the tattoo with an odd kind of fondness. "'S kinda why I was seein' those lawyers."

"Because you got a tattoo when you were sixteen?"

"Times were tough, sugar. An' we lived in a real shithole of a neighbourhood. I wanted to fit in, so I got in with the wrong kind of people. That's when I got this." he explained, tapping the tattoo.

"When CSKA came along, I knew it was my chance to make things right, do my Ma proud. Couple years later, the Red Bulls came knockin'. So, we packed up and moved back to New York."

"I'm guessing those people didn't just go away, did they?"

"Nelson and your pal Murdock been handlin' it." he answered shortly, and she clamped her mouth shut, forcing down her words.

His tone was very final and she knew not to push the matter any further. Opening up was still very much a big deal for him, and she knew she was lucky to have even got so much at that moment in time.

Muttering about needing the restroom, Bucky gently kissed her cheek and slid her off his lap so he could stand up. Lola watched his retreating back with concern, understanding he just wanted a moment to himself, yet equally wanting to rush after him to comfort him with hugs and kisses. But, the mobile phone he'd left on the couch buzzed and her eyes fell on the newly received text.

You better be home, stud. Been a while since we had some fun! ;) - DU

 _Fun? I'll show her fun!_

Lola seethed silently as she launched herself off the couch and marched to the bedroom with the sheer determination of a woman on a mission. She pulled off the t-shirt off she was wearing and shimmied into her new soccer jersey; perching herself on the bed provocatively. Guys liked that kind of thing, right?

 _Oh God, I can't believe I'm doing this._

The bathroom door opened and Bucky stopped in his tracks, his eyes glazing over with pure lust as Lola smirked at him from her position on the bed. She bit her lip, holding back a giggle as she watched his eyes trail over her, the blue in them almost disappearing to make way for his blackened pupils. She arched her back a little more and cocked her head to the side.

"How do I look? Does it suit me?" she asked innocently, daring him closer with a sultry look in her eyes.

"Yeah. You could say that." gulped Bucky, trying not to trip over his feet. Lola giggled as he stepped closer.

"Do you think this will be okay for your game?"

"Sugar, you turn up like this and there won't be a game."

"And why is- "

Bucky cut her off, pouncing on her and crashing his lips against hers, his fingers digging into her hips. Lola giggled again when her back hit the pillows, and his eyes swept over her again, the bulge in his shorts pressing against her urgently.

"Come on Soccer Star, show me those eleven different positions." She tugged at the waistband of his shorts, smirking when he groaned at her.

"You're killin' me here, sugar."

"Me? I'm not doing anything…" she replied sweetly, rolling her hips against his and earning another groan.

"You sure as hell ain't innocent." he chuckled, nipping roughly at her neck, eliciting a moan from her.

It was his turn to smirk at her, as she dragged her fingertips down the length of his chest, flipping him on his back when his breath hitched.

"You're right." she giggled, straddling him, her lips barely milimetres from his. "Let me show you just how bad I can be."

And that was exactly how Dottie found them, as she peered through the gap in the bedroom door, almost teetering over in her skyscraper heels in shock. Her eyes narrowed into small slits, every moan and every creak of the bed boiling her blood until it bubbled over.

Enough was enough for Dottie Underwood, her heels clacking angrily as she marched out the apartment, the image of _her_ Bucky and _that_ _Stark_ _bitch_ burned into her memory. The gears in her head whirred and whizzed, as an evil smile slid on her blood red lips. Dottie had an idea.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Just be careful, love ain't simple**

"Does Barnes know you're skipping lunch with his family to swing round a pole half-naked with a really cute instructor?"

"I'm not skipping lunch."

"Alright, you're full on hiding."

Lola swore under her breath as she almost slipped, catching herself just in time. Hoisting herself back up the pole and mimicking Darcy's movements, she huffed as Natasha hung with ease.

"Leave her alone." chipped in Jane, her slender limbs moving in perfect tandem. "Meeting the parents is a big deal."

"Yeah, and something I have zero practice with." muttered Lola and this time, Natasha almost catapulted off the pole.

"You never met Pietro's parents? After all that time together?"

"His parents died when he was ten. I only ever met his twin sister, Wanda, once."

"And?"

* * *

 _There was something unnerving about the way Wanda looked her up and down. It was as if her eyes (Lola was sure they were bright red) were sizing her up; scanning her like a laser and judging all the information they uncovered. She silently wondered if she should have worn the blue dress, and not the pink one, before shushing herself. Wanda looked like she could read minds, and Lola was determined to pass the test._

 _Wanda popped her bubblegum bubble and looked at Lola's nervous smile with complete boredom._

 _"She's prettier in the photos."_

* * *

Lola shuddered and Jane looked at her with sympathy. Natasha grimaced, all hope vanishing from her face.

"I see your point."

"You're going to be fine." said Jane reassuringly, as they began to pack up. "A playboy sports star likes _you_ and has chosen to be with _you_. Being the girl who's got him to settle down has to win you some brownie points."

"I sure hope so." agreed Lola, slinging her packed up pole into its bag and over her shoulder.

They waved a goodbye to Darcy and left the studio.

"If nothing, I'll just remind them that I'm the journalist that makes their son look good in New York's most popular paper." she joked, yelping as she ran into someone.

"Pietro?"

"Lola Stark." he smirked.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and squared her shoulders, but Lola shook her head.

"Pole dancing? Have you got a new job now? Help you pay those bills because writing doesn't?"

"Mm, well, it is flattering that men pay so highly for a few minutes with me. No-one would spare a breath for you." she replied coolly. Natasha's jaw dropped. "Speaking of which, I really should be going. There's a man waiting for me. Nice seeing you, Pietro."

And with that, she swiftly dodged around him and sauntered out, exhaling loudly when the city air filled her lungs.

"Where did that come from?" questioned Natasha proudly.

"I don't know. But, I'm done being sad and nervous. If you'll excuse me, I have some in-laws to go and meet."

* * *

Lola was sweating. Why was she sweating so much? Oh God, she hoped it wouldn't show through her jersey. She pulled it away from her chest, letting the air circulate as she tried to steady her breathing. Her makeup hadn't smudged, thank God, and her hair was still sitting smoothly despite her feverish state. She was quite sure she hadn't felt this nervous approaching the Red Bulls Arena before, not even on the eve of her first match coverage. All that confidence from earlier suddenly seemed like a fairy tale.

It felt odd, using the VIP Entrance instead of the side doors reserved for the press. She wished she hadn't, when she had to zip down the red carpet, declining any photographs and interviews. Her breath steadied a little when she reached the safety of the stadium and she took a minute to compose herself, before almost toppling over as a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

"You lost, sugar? Think the press are over there."

"Actually, I was invited."

"Pretty thing like you? Who's the lucky guy?"

"He's tall, handsome, happens to be the star player of the team. I'm wearing his jersey."

"You look real gorgeous in it too." chuckled Bucky, spinning her round and enveloping her in that heavenly cologne that made her want to bury her face in his neck.

"Damn, I was going for the desperate groupie look."

"Well, you're too pretty for that." he winked, leaning down and pressing a knee-trembling kiss to her lips.

Lola blushed and held on to his shoulders before she collapsed in a gooey puddle at his feet. God, he was so handsome and charming, wasn't he? With those sparkling blue eyes and mop of luscious brown hair. The outline of his muscles was just visible through his training gear, and she resisted the urge to drag him to the nearest closet and have her wicked way with him.

"Come on," he urged excitedly, slipping her small hand into his much larger one. "Ma's waitin' to meet you." Sensing her nerves, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a quick peck on the cheek. "She's gonna love you."

Lola let him lead her up the stairs and into a much fancier room where there was a bar and finger food. There were windows that offered a stunning view of the arena, and little doors that led into the individual boxes. Bucky pointed out his family and she plastered a smile on her face as he tapped a woman on the shoulder. She spun around, a friendly smile on her face.

"Ma, there's someone I want you to meet. This is Lola."

"Oh, my dear, it is so lovely to finally meet you!" exclaimed the woman, pulling Lola into a big hug. "James, why didn't you tell us she was so gorgeous?"

"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Barnes." blushed Lola, letting the woman kiss her cheeks.

"Oh, please. Call me Winnie. James, don't just stand there, go get her a nice glass of wine. None of the cheap stuff, you hear me?"

"Yeah, sure, Ma. Don't scare her off, alright? Kinda like this one." winked Bucky, and Lola blushed again.

"James has told us so much about you."

"Only good things I hope."

"I don't think he could say anything bad about you, even if he wanted to." smiled Winnie kindly, and Lola felt herself relax in the company of Bucky's warm and loving mother.

She was at ease by the time George, Bucky's father, had shook her hand and by the time Bucky returned, she was gossiping about this season's nail polishes with his sister, Rebecca. Lola accepted the glass of wine gratefully, blushing when he wrapped an arm around her waist. She didn't miss the gleeful glances Mr. and Mrs. Barnes exchanged.

"Winnie! George!" screeched a voice, and just like that, the mood changed.

There was a flurry of blow-dried hair and the smell of Dior Poison assaulted Lola's nostrils.

"Dolores, I didn't know you were coming!" smiled Winnie, embracing Dottie.

 _What the hell is she doing here?_

"Oh, come on. I never miss a game. I'm your son's biggest fan." trilled Dottie, embracing George and Rebecca as well.

 _Whatever you say, Dottie. As his girlfriend, I beg to differ._

Dottie turned around and smirked triumphantly at Lola, before practically throwing herself at Bucky.

"Hey, stud." she simpered seductively, just loud enough for Lola to hear.

Bucky greeted her back, before politely pushing her off him. Lola smirked right back at Dottie when Bucky's arm was firmly around her waist again.

"I gotta go ready, sugar. I'll see you after the game?"

"Make me proud to wear this jersey."

"Hey, what about the rest of us?" scoffed Rebecca, as Bucky tried to weasle as many kisses as he could from Lola, for 'luck', of course.

"Yeah, yeah. You know the drill. Don't rack up a tab like last time, Becca."

"Why else do you think I come to your games?"

"Ma!"

"Oh, hush! You go and win that game now. Rebecca, easy on the wine."

Down below on the field, the players had started warming up. Bucky waved in their direction, blowing a kiss and earning himself another blush from Lola.

"I haven't seen him this happy in a long time, you know." said Winnie knowingly.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Winnie. I've been keeping my eye on him for years now, he's always been happy with me." interjected Dottie, swishing her hair over her shoulder. Rebecca pretended to gag and Lola bit back a giggle.

"And we thank you for it." smiled Winnie gratefully. "But, still, it's nice to meet the girl who has finally stolen my son's heart."

Dottie quietly seethed, her anger building up slowly inside her, until she was sure she could feel the blood boiling in her veins. She hated the way Lola was getting all the attention, and she wasn't even _trying_. Rebecca had never taken a liking to her, but Winnie, Winnie had always been on her side. And then, in pranced Miss. Stark and Winnie was so taken it was like Lola had hung the moon or something remarkable like that. Whipping out her phone, she typed out a quick text.

 _Change of plans. Make it happen now. - DU_

* * *

"Slow down, tiger. You're going over to his parents' house for Sunday lunch?" asked a gobsmacked Natasha, as she rode the elevator with Lola the very next Monday morning.

"I know, can you believe it? His family are so sweet- I was nervous for nothing!" squealed Lola, moving aside to let people out.

"I guess you and Barnes are pretty serious, huh?" smiled Natasha, making Lola pause with a goofy smile on her face.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess we are. I haven't heard from him today, is that weird? He always texts me to say good morning."

"I'm happy for you, Stark. You deserve it. But, now that's just too sappy for my liking."

"You know, if you and Sam ever want to join us…"

"Wilson? Oh no, I- "

"Don't do repeats. Yeah, I've heard it before. He was asking about you, though."

"Wait, we were discussing your love life. Not mine."

"Well, mine is going perfectly- touch wood- so now it's time to focus on yours."

"Stark!" barked Clint, standing in the doorway.

He pointed two fingers at Lola, motioning her forward before disappearing into his office. His expression was murderous at the best of times, but this morning, it looked like he had psychopath on speed dial. Lola glanced at Natasha nervously, before quickly heading towards Clint's office. He ordered her to shut the door, as he sat in his chair, his fingers clasped together.

"You wanted to see me?" asked Lola, nervously perching on one of the chairs opposite Clint's desk.

He stared at her for a minute, before sitting up straight.

"What do you want from life, Stark?"

"E-excuse me?"

"What's your game plan? And spare me the bullshit."

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Oh, okay. How about I explain it, and you can tell me where I deviate." said Clint, his manner deathly calm. "Are you or are you not sleeping with James Barnes?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything? Yeah, we're dating. But, that's my personal life."

"Yeah, well you brought it into the workplace and now it's not your personal life."

Clint opened his drawer and pulled out a stack of papers, slapping them down loudly on his desk. Lola picked the top sheet up and furrowed her eyebrows.

"These are my articles?"

"You mean, the articles you plagiarised."

"I didn't plagiarise- "

"Cut the crap. I had Vision look it over. They're plagiarised. And all to, what was it, be 'the journalist who makes Barnes look good'."

"I- how do you know I said that? Not that I meant it, it was a joke- "

"You're fired."

"W-what?"

"You're fired! You've humiliated this paper! We'll be lucky if Fury doesn't bury us with a lawsuit! I don't know what your angle is, but rest assured Barnes already knows you've been playing him, too. Good luck with the whole career thing. Now get the hell out of here!"

Lola's face burned red, and she blinked hard to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Clint made it clear there was no room for discussion, and she somehow stumbled back to her desk. Correction, what used to be her desk. Hurriedly throwing her possessions in a box, she ignored the whispers echoing round the office.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Natasha, leaping out of her chair.

Lola looked up at her, a fresh set of tears brimming. She opened and closed her mouth several times like a goldfish, and unable to form the right words together, she simply shook her head and hurried to the elevator.

She refused to cry, not here, not in public. She tried to convince herself it was out of pride, that for some reason she looked guilty and crying would make it worse, but the reality was she felt lost. She felt like a little girl in a big, scary world that she didn't understand. It was too much. The second the New York air hit her, she couldn't hold back the waterworks and found herself blubbering into a cardboard box that seemingly contained what remained of her life.

How could Clint even think for one second that she was capable of doing something like this? What motive could she possibly have? Sure, Clint had his initial reservations about hiring her. He couldn't understand why someone in her position would turn down daddy's money for a life of gruelling work. But, Lola had been determined in her mission and she thought her hard work was finally paying off.

As for Bucky, she could feel her heart breaking. He couldn't possibly believe she was using him, could he?

"It sucks, doesn't it? When your life is turned upside down."

Lola spun around. Despite her watery eyes, there was no mistaking that voice.

"Dottie?"

And then the cogs started turning in Lola's head.

"Did you… ?"

"Did I what? Are you going to finish that sentence? I thought journalists were supposed to be good with words."

"They're also good with their fists!"

"Oh, I wouldn't do that. You've already been discredited, do you really want to cause a scene and make things worse for yourself?"

Lola gulped and furiously wiped the tears from her face. Dottie smirked and swished her hair.

"Do yourself a favour and go. Leave New York. Don't bother calling him. He doesn't want anything to do with you. Who do you think he ran to when he found out about your little game?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"You're not ruining my life, Stark. There's a reason I'm the only girl in his life. I'm the only one he trusts. I just... understand him, in ways no-one else does."

"You're in love with him. Aren't you?"

"It's going to be me in the end, Stark. It was always going to be me. Save yourself the heartbreak and leave New York. Think about it."

With a final smug smile, Dottie raised her hand and effortlessly climbed in a yellow taxi, leaving Lola standing on the sidewalk.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: I'll never know why it's coming down**

It was either the bottle of vodka Natasha kept safely stashed for emergencies, or the tub of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer. And despite everything, Lola still somehow had the good sense to eat her weight in Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Not that the vodka wasn't tempting, she just figured that right now, a clear head was going to be more help rather than drunk dialling Bucky.

He still hadn't called. Her mobile phone had been sitting beside her, taunting her. She picked it up now, before dropping it back down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Natasha had called her several times, as had Jane, and both had left a dozen voicemails and texts, even emails, but Lola was not in the mood. She was sure the news had made the rounds at the paper by now. Even if the truth did come out, by some miracle, the thought of facing all those people again made her nauseous.

What would she say to them? What was she going to say to Bucky?

* * *

Bucky leant back in his chair. He had been watching Pierce pace back and forth for some time now and his patience was beginning to wear thin. It was making him anxious.

Bucky had arrived bright and early for training, but his path to the changing rooms had been intercepted by Pierce's assistant, Jack Rollins, who had snatched his mobile from his hands. He had demanded an explanation, he was in the middle of a text, but Rollins had simply led him to Pierce's office, where Nick Fury was departing from. And boy, Fury had looked ready to annihilate, as he brushed past.

"Pierce, you gonna tell me why I'm missin' trainin' for this?" asked Bucky, crossing his arms over his chest.

He was met with a sigh, and Pierce nodded at Rollins, who held out an iPad. Bucky took it tentatively. A cold silence settled in the little office, the minutes passing like hours. Eventually, Bucky cleared his throat and looked up at Pierce.

"The hell is this?" he asked, completely confused by the email he had just read.

"I'm sorry." replied Pierce, although, his tone suggested otherwise. Bucky shook his head.

"Nah. This… this isn't possible. You've got it wrong. There's no chance in hell she did this."

"Look, I know you two- "

"Pierce, I'm tellin' you. I know her! She wouldn't do this!"

"And I thought I knew my wife. But here we are, a divorce and my bank account half a million empty later. Soldier, what's more important to you? Your career? Or this girl?"

"You're seriously askin' me to make that decision?"

"Yes." said Pierce sternly. "No player is bigger than the club. And if you embarrass us, there will be consequences."

"But- "

"No. Until this problem is resolved you are to have no contact with Miss. Stark. Do I make myself clear?"

The news didn't sit well with Bucky at all. There was something about it all that just didn't feel right. He refused to believe Lola was capable of something as devious as this. Sure, she had a cheeky streak, but, there wasn't a single bad bone in her body. That, and it just didn't make sense.

Why would she go to such great lengths to plagiarise her articles? After the hours she had spent poring over videos and history books, asking him to teach her the rules of the game and even testing her knowledge with Jarvis… something didn't add up.

Bucky kept his head down for the rest of the training session, keeping up the pretence that he was just very focused on practice. Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson knew better, though. But Bucky dutifully ignored his best friends, running faster on each lap just to get away from them. And as soon as Pierce blew the whistle to signal the end of the day, he had disappeared in a heartbeat. Sam and Steve had exchanged worried glances, as they watching his car pull out of the arena.

A shower didn't help, neither did a Netflix binge. It was close to dinner time when his phone rang, startling him. He almost rolled off the couch he was marooned on, but he managed to grab the vibrating iPhone, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the ID.

 _Shit. It's her. What do I do? I should answer. No, no, Pierce'll have my balls. But, I don't think she did anythin' wrong. I should hear her out. Why's she callin' now? It only makes her look guilty. Shit!_

By the time Bucky had finished dithering over whether he should take Lola's call or not, the decision had already been made for him. Materialising out of nowhere, Dottie had jammed a sharp finger on the big red button and swiped the phone from his hand.

"You don't want to do that, stud." she drawled, tucking the phone out of sight.

"Dot? The hell you doin'?"

"After everything, she's lucky blocking her calls is all I'm doing."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, it's not a good look on you, stud." she tittered, perching beside Bucky and stroking his hair.

"Wait, Pierce says they're keepin' it on the downlow, how'd you hear 'bout it?"

"Daddy owns the paper, remember? He… remembered I had told him about you two and he thought I should know. He just wants me to look out for you."

"I appreciate the concern, but you should tell him to look into it. I don't think she did it."

"What? That's ridiculous! Of course she did it!"

"Dot, this is the girl who turned down a life of luxury to work at a paper!"

"She's rich and she got bored of shopping all day."

"She ain't exactly the shoppin' kind. She… she builds engines with her grandfather and eats greasy burgers. She worked her ass off for this job to what? Pass the time?"

"I know this is hard to hear, but she was playing a game. She was playing you. She might have gotten away with it, but she dealt her cards too early. She would have fooled a lot of people, but luckily not me." trilled Dottie soothingly, inching closer to Bucky who sat there miserably on his couch, thoroughly perplexed.

Dottie sighed and turned his face towards hers.

"Do you remember what I said before the DC game? That I felt something off about her? I hate to say I told you so…"

"I just… I can't have been that wrong 'bout her. Could I?" he implored, as if Dottie held all the answers. "Dot, I really like this girl. Maybe even- "

"Let's just forget about her, okay?" interrupted Dottie, pressing closer to him, her hands and gaze lingering. "Why don't we get her off your mind, hm?"

"The hell you doin'?" cried Bucky, pushing her off. She fell to the floor with a screech, her coat falling open to reveal next to nothing underneath.

"Jesus Christ, the hell you thinkin', Dot? Turnin' up here like that?"

Dottie quickly scrambled up from the floor, tying her coat closed.

"I'm helping you forget her, stud. I remembered how you were after Vivian. I thought you might need me."

"No, this is not the same." glared Bucky.

"Two whores using you to get ahead in life? How is that not the same?" sneered Dottie.

"Hey! Look, I don't know what's goin' on. But that doesn't mean you can march in here, guns blazin' and try to have sex with me, alright?"

"You and her- "

"Are not over. And even if we were, doesn't mean I wanna jump into bed with you."

"You're right. You are so right, stud. And I am so sorry." sniffed Dottie, the sneer sliding off her face. She sniffed loudly again and Bucky softened. "I was just trying to help. I know how hard this must be for you. I wanted to be there for you. I'm sorry."

"I know. Just… let's just order a pizza, alright?"

* * *

"Knock, knock. It's the world's best dad." said Tony cheerily, throwing open the door and holding a pizza box aloft. "And I even put some ice cream in the freezer. Figured you'd probably consumed your entire supply by now."

Lola looked up from her blanket cocoon. Tissues littered the floor, and as Tony had rightly guessed, there were several empty tubs of ice cream surrounding her.

"Hey, honey." he said gently, moving aside some of the rubbish to sit beside her.

"Hi, daddy."

"Bit of a pickle you're in, huh?"

"Yeah." she whispered.

Her lip trembled, and she was crying all over again. Well, crying was understating it. Tony, despite his good intentions, was clueless when it came to girls crying, so he gently rocked his daughter, whilst trying to signal to Natasha through the open doorway. Eventually, her cries died away and she sniffled loudly. Tony handed her a tissue.

"What are we gonna do with you?"

"You do believe me, don't you?"

"I didn't doubt you for a second. Fury and Pierce on the other hand…"

"Oh my God, I totally forgot. What does this mean for you? This hasn't screwed up your deal, has it?"

"Honey, just breathe. I love that you care, but I took care of it, okay? Let's just worry about you. What happened?"

With a heavy heart, Lola told Tony about her impromptu meeting with Clint. It was painful, reliving his accusations and the words that terminated her career. Tony patiently listened to the whole story and while he remained silent, there was no hiding how sceptical he was over the whole affair.

"I know, Barton. Guy watches his employees like a hawk. He wouldn't have fired you without evidence." concluded Tony.

"He had evidence. Apparently."

"What?! How?"

"Dolores Underwood." answered Natasha, leaning on the doorframe. Tony and Lola exchanged glances.

"Who's Dolores Underwood?" asked Lola.

"And where does she live?" threatened Tony.

"Dolores Underwood. Junior Fashion Editor at US Vogue. Redhead, tall, smells like a hair salon. Otherwise known as Dot."

"Dot?" gasped Lola. "As in, Dottie? The one who hangs off Bucky's every word? That fake bitch! Oh, sorry, daddy."

"No, no. That fake bitch!" he repeated, and Lola giggled. "Who is she? And how do you know, Romanov?"

"I… have my sources."

"Clint?"

"I thought you don't do repeats! Especially with married men!"

"I don't. I just… posed as a waitress while he was having dinner with his wife and threatened to pretend I was pregnant until he told me."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side." muttered Tony, offering her a slice of pizza. Natasha smirked and took a slice, huddling up beside her best friend.

"What are you going to do?" asked Natasha, nibbling on her slice of pizza. Tony hummed in agreement, the pair looking expectantly at Lola.

"What _can_ I do?"

"Show everyone she's a fake bitch who planted that evidence."

"Nice thinking, Romanov. But, you're forgetting the part where this Dorothy has thoroughly discredited my daughter as a journalist."

"Right. As a journalist." agreed Lola, the wheels slowly turning in her head. "I can't do anything as a journalist, without being taken seriously. But maybe I don't have to do anything as a journalist."

"What do you mean?"

"Aside from Bucky, what's the single most important thing to Dot?"

"Her fashion career?"

"Exactly."

"You're going to get her fired?"

"Oh no, I'm not sinking to her level."

"So, then?"

"If you can't join them. Beat them."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: If it all goes wrong, darling, just hold on**

 _Click_.

The streets of New York City were so cold it was a wonder that they weren't frozen. The weather presenter on the news had promised snow sooner than most New Yorkers would like. Despite the dropping temperatures, the sky was a beautiful shade of bright blue, the sun present as ever. Cars were still honking and the odd siren penetrated the air.

Thank goodness they had managed to find a side street in the city that was away from the usual hustle and bustle of the tourists. It was only the third time Lola was doing this and she felt incredibly self-conscious and so exposed in front of the camera. She tried to think back to all those dedicated years of watching America's Next Top Model, _smizing_ just as Tyra would instruct the contestants. She was not a professional model, and Peter Parker was certainly no Mario Testino, but, here they were, giving it a good go, nonetheless.

With winter settling in, Lola had opted to show that one could dress stylishly in this weather. Alright, so perhaps the long slit in her skirt wasn't the best example of weatherproof dressing, but, you had to sacrifice a little to look good, no? Her maxi skirt was a dusty pink shade, pleated and layered with a black top. A leather jacket draped over her shoulders was the finishing touch, and perhaps the only thing that indicated her former life.

It was the very leather jacket she had borrowed from Bucky and never returned. She had tried to call him, of course. But, her calls and texts had been dutifully ignored. It had filled her with shame and embarrassment, that he must believe all the rumours. She would be lying if she said she didn't miss him; getting over him was no picnic.

"Are you sure you won't get in trouble?" she asked him dubiously.

Getting the sack hadn't exactly been a walk in the park for her, and she dreaded to think what would happen if she cost a promising young man his future. Although, technically speaking, Peter had offered his services to her, when all she had wanted was a referral. He shook his head in response now.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Besides, this is so much more fun than taking pictures of construction sites."

"How do the photos look?"

"Perfect! I mean, I don't know much about women's clothes, but, they totally work with the backdrop. And the movement of the skirt is great. Photographically speaking."

"I sure hope so."

* * *

Dolores Underwood was feeling good. She stretched like a cat in her enormous bed, before throwing the silk covers off and starting her Monday morning. She had slept wonderfully, dreaming of her fairytale wedding with Bucky. It was a sign, she was sure of it.

Smiling to herself, she ran a hot bath before covering her face with a clay mask (to cleanse the impurities) and cold gel eye pads (to reduce any puffiness). When she was sufficiently clean, she set about curling her red hair perfectly. Sipping on a no-fat latte with soy milk, she chose her outfit for the day- a salmon pink dress that clung to her like a second skin and black strappy heels. Sure, it looked like it was freezing cold outside but she wanted to look fabulous.

The only thing that could have possibly ruined her morning was the homeless man who begged her for food for his children, and she squealed in terror as she hurried past him and into the sleek black car that would drive her to work.

Once in the safety of the VOGUE offices, she strutted through the glass doors and took her seat, ready for the morning meeting. Her colleagues slowly joined her and the meeting began, they discussed Giselle walking her last runway show, whether the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show was actually fashionable or not, forecasts for the next Fashion Week as well as who would be attending what shows.

And then her Editor, Anna, moved to the next item on the agenda- influencers. Gigi and Bella Hadid cropped up, Dottie expected that. What she didn't expect, was the blog that suddenly filled the presentation screen. Choking on her sparkling water, Dottie spluttered her way through a coughing fit while Anna eyed her wearily before swivelling back to everyone else.

"Now, this caught my eye on my way in. Granted, there are only three outfits she has put together, but, look at the style and the substance. Not only that, but her writing is very compelling." stated Anna, and there was a murmur of agreement.

Dottie snorted to herself and suddenly the room went quiet. Anna Wintour raised an eyebrow and Dottie turned red.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Donna?"

"Oh, no, it's just… Lola Stark? An influencer?" Dottie squeaked, holding herself back on correcting Anna.

She had made the mistake of doing that once, when Anna had called her 'Doris', and had spent the rest of the day making photocopies.

"And I suppose you know an influencer when you see one?"

"Well… I'm certainly not as knowledgeable as you, but- "

"How right you are, Diedre. In fact, I was going to ask you to take on this particular project, but, I can see it bores you- "

"No! Not at all!"

"- so I suggest you stick to assisting your Editor. Trish, I'm assigning this to you."

As Anna reeled off a set of instructions to Trish, Dottie seethed silently as she sat bubbling with humiliation. Lola Stark? An influencer? Dottie laughed at the very thought.

 _Jesus Christ_ , Bucky thought to himself. He was comfortably perched on his leather couch, a black coffee on the table in front of him and his mail spread out on his right. He had ordered a few new clothes online, most of his shirts seemed far too tight on account of the (additional) muscle he had put on.

In light of recent events, he had been spending more and more hours in the gym. Dottie had taken to accompanying him, but, she never seemed as focused as he did. She simply kept snapping photos and videos of him, saying that putting them on Instagram would help him 'connect with the fans'. He never really understood that malarky, so he left her to it.

Dottie had been awfully clingy, too. He penned it down to her being caring in the midst of all the drama. Even so, it was a nice, peaceful Monday morning and he greatly appreciated having his apartment to himself for once.

Shaking his head at himself, Bucky couldn't believe he had been driven to watching E! On such a regular basis. Not that he would ever, ever, ever dare to admit this to anyone. Yet, it was the only way he could keep in touch with what was going on in the world, or rather, Lola Stark's world.

Despite everything, she had suddenly sprang to stardom after starting a blog of some kind. She was invited to fashion shows and sent clothes by top designers. He had read her reviews on the various coffee shops of Manhattan and there was no denying it, she was an ingenious writer. Her words had you falling in love with whatever it was she was speaking about.

That was the part that Bucky understood the least, as he unfolded an invitation to GQ's annual Christmas Party in aid of charity. The pieces she had written sounded exactly like her soccer articles. So, how could she have plagiarised them? Or was she simply too good at her job? Pierce had retained his fierce stance on zero communication. Bucky had tried to reach out to her nonetheless, to no avail as he never received a reply. He guessed that was that.

To make matter worse, his friendship with Steve had become somewhat strained, too. Steve had vehemently denied any accusations against Lola, and he had been outraged when Bucky wasn't as furious as he was. Steve had continued to openly stay in contact with Lola, so much so, that he had been 'sent on international duty with the U.S. National Team', in other words, he had been temporarily suspended. Unsure of what to do, Bucky followed the advice of his agent, keeping his head down and worrying only about the games that were fast approaching after the festive season.

* * *

Lola screamed and jumped off the couch, dancing excitedly around the room as a wet Natasha Romanoff ran in, haphazardly wrapped in a towel.

"What the hell is going on?!" she demanded, dropping the hairbrush she had grabbed as a weapon.

"I thought you were being attacked!"

"Nat! Look!" screamed Lola delightedly, holding up a piece of black card with fancy gold writing on. "I've been invited to GQ's Christmas Party!"

"You're kidding, right?" gasped Natasha, her eyes widening. "That's incredible!"

"I know! Oh my God, think of the blog post I could write after!"

"Think of all the hot men you could bring home after!"

"Nat!"

"What? I'm just saying, Barnes clearly has no interest. It's time you moved on. Hey, Chris Pine was your first celebrity crush and he always attends these shindigs."

"As tempting as that sounds, I'm focusing on my career."

"Fine. But, then I'm calling dibs on Pine."

"Oh, no. Pine is mine. You can have any other Chris you want."

A grumbling Natasha returned to the bathroom, whilst Lola continued to squeal excitedly over the coveted invitation in her hand as she sat down to read the comments from this morning's blog post. The party was only two weeks away. She knew exactly who was going to be her plus one. And she knew exactly which dress she was going to wear.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Payback is a bad bitch**

Bucky could hear the roar of the crowd, as the limousine rolled to a halt in front of the red carpet. It was one of those moments that made your heart thump and threaten to pound of your chest. No matter how many times he did this, he never quite got over it.

Dottie, on the other hand, seemed quite unperturbed by the whole affair. In fact, she looked rather excited. Then again, Bucky knew she always enjoyed these dos far more than he ever did. She checked her salon fresh hair now, before taking his proffered hand and stepping out the limousine.

Dottie was sure she was going to have the night of her life. Well, until Bucky stepped out of a photograph they were meant to be in together. He had muttered something about not wanting to falsely advertise or spark any rumours about them being a couple. Of course, that had been her entire intention and she had to do her best at hiding her disappointment. Instead, Bucky posed for some photographs on his own.

That was when he saw her.

 _Jesus Christ._

Lola was stepping out of a limousine of her own. It was like something out of a movie. Everything seemed to slow down until the world around him melted away. The first thing Bucky saw was her heel clad foot, and he couldn't resist the way his eyes seemed to glide up her leg until the hem of her short dress began.

She was wearing a dusky pink wrap dress made of velvet that looked like it had been made for her and her alone. It sat snugly on her curves, the neckline dipping just low enough to get his pulse raising, but high enough to be tasteful. He had always loved her hair, but, there was something about the way it sat in shiny, bouncy waves, effortlessly cool, that made him want to run his fingers through it. And _God_ , that smile, he knew it was for the cameras and but he sure wished it was just for him.

Shamelessly, he ogled as she posed for photographs, dragging her best friend Natasha Romanoff into as many as she could. It didn't escape Dottie's attention. Her already bad mood worsened when she realised who the spotlight was shining on now. Huffing, she grabbed Bucky's arm and steered him inside.

Unbeknownst to them, Lola had been ogling Bucky just as much as had been eyeing her up. Dear God, he looked devastatingly handsome in that all-black suit. The slicked back hair, the always-so-charming smirk… and as soon as she had caught sight of those bright blue eyes…

 _Holy shit, I'm in trouble._

"Nat! What the hell do I do? _He's here_!" she whispered urgently, trying to maintain her smile for the last batch of photographers as they inched slowly down the red carpet.

"So?"

"He's with _her_!"

"Damn. Well, honey, you've never looked better. Have fun. Own it. Show her who's boss and show him what he's missing."

Inside, the party was just getting started. Dottie nodded her head approvingly at the namecards on her and Bucky's table. Irina Shayk, Chris Pine, David and Victoria Beckham, and Lewis Hamilton. It was undoubtedly the best table that night.

Just as she was getting comfortable, a waiter came over, Dottie began to pray with all her soul that his awkward smile was not for her. She closed her eyes, hoping he would go away, but, he simply cleared his throat and waited patiently.

"Miss. Underwood, I apologise for the inconvenience, but, I'm afraid there's been a mix-up."

"No, no, mix-up. I'm sure of it." Dottie said through gritted teeth.

"I am terribly sorry, but, I'm afraid I am going to have ask you and Mr. Barnes to move. I do apologise."

"Not a problem, man." said Bucky, standing up. "C'mon, Dot. Let's move."

"No! These are _our_ _seats_."

"Well, he says they're not. It's no big deal, come on."

Grumbling, Dottie eventually stood up and huffed angrily at the waiter who lead them to another table. It was much further away, but, clearly in good enough distance for Dottie to burst an artillery or two when she saw who was being given _her_ seat.

" _That_ _bitch_!" she hissed under her breath, her evening had taken a turn for the worse, and it was all _her_ fault.

It was _always_ her fault. Dottie had fought tooth and nail to be invited to this party; she had spent days hunting down the perfect dress; and she had played her cards right to be Bucky's plus one. What right did that bitch have to turn up and ruin it all for her?

The new inhabitants of their former table caught Bucky's attention, too. He would have been perfectly content with his view, but, the night had other ideas for him, too, and he soon found his eyes narrowing at the scene unfolding in front of him. The idea of Lewis Hamilton and Chris Pine hadn't bothered him… until _now_. Did the F1 superstar have to wink at her like that? And why was the Hollywood heartthrob looking at her with his blue eyes like that?

Suffice to say, by the time the first course was served, Bucky was on tenterhooks. And when dessert rolled around, Chris Pine (who was now Bucky's least favourite person in the entire universe) had migrated rather close to Lola. The cherry on the icing was when he leant over to whisper something in her ear. Bucky's grip had tightened so much on his champagne glass, that the stem snapped cleanly off, sending a spray of bubbles over Dottie, who had shrieked until kingdom come.

 _Man, you have to calm down!_

The night didn't improve much after dinner. Especially not for Dottie. As she danced the evening away in a skin tight dress that was sure to rip if she made too sudden a movement, she plotted and she plotted. Her anger had been slowly building up, ever since Anna had praised Lola Stark's blog and dubbed her as the newest influencer to watch. Tonight's party was the final straw. God, it filled her with pure jealousy, watching Lola giggle and dance with that redhead friend of hers and Prince Charming himself. Of course, Bucky was the only man for her, but, even so, she should be the one surrounded by all the A List men at this party!

One whiskey too many was the story of Bucky Barnes' night. His sour mood had taken full advantage of the open bar and to hell with the consequences. Who cared if there was a Victoria's Secret Angel making bedroom eyes in his direction? And why the hell was Dottie pressing her ass against him? He gently pushed her off and she whipped around.

 _Jesus, if looks could kill!_

"We're getting another drink!" she said, no, _forced_ him, as she grabbed his hand. Bucky made to protest, but seeing Lola and that damned actor head in the same direction, let himself be led off the dance floor.

Actually, wait, he was wasted. This wasn't a good idea, was it?

* * *

Lola leant on the bar (well, somewhat on the bar, mostly on the handsome man beside her) and tried to catch her breath. Blue-eyed men were going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. Especially when they were so sweet and kind as this one. He had seen her glance over in Bucky's direction more than once, and it didn't take him long to put two and two together. Sure, playing the "make him jealous" card was an old trick, but, he was game. And not just because David and Victoria Beckham kept trying to set him up with various lady friends of theirs.

It had been a sparkling night so far. The venue that GQ had chosen for their Christmas extravaganza was gorgeous, and unsurprisingly, the attendees were equally gorgeous too. Dinner had been cooked to perfection and in Lola's opinion, there was no finer table to be sat at. David and Victoria had cemented themselves as her favourite couple. Lewis Hamilton oozed charm and had wit to boot. Natasha, well, best friends always had a special place didn't they? Lola felt like a million bucks in her dress, and despite the whole Bucky situation, she was actually rather enjoying herself.

Taking the shot of tequila offered to her, Lola spun round giddily… only to crash straight into a Miss. Dolores Underwood who not-so-accidentally poured a glass of red wine all down her front, leaving her wet and her light pink dress terribly stained. Dottie giggled coquettishly, batting her eyelashes at the actor, who simply offered her a look of disdain.

"Oops! I'm so sorry!" cooed Dottie, grimacing at Lola, before glancing at Bucky, looking on horrified.

 _Don't let that bitch get you down, Lola! You're a Stark!_

Lola held her tongue, she had a bitchy retort to go, but, the champagne had been free flowing that night, and it gave her a better idea. So, instead, she smiled innocently at Dottie and put her tequila shot down on the bar.

"Don't worry, Dot, accidents happen." she simpered.

And then, keeping her eyes on Bucky all the while, she hooked her fingers in the straps of her now ruined dress and let it fall to the floor.

 _I'm going to hate myself for this tomorrow._

Dottie's jaw hit the floor faster than Lola's dress. Bucky's eyes went comically wide. Lola's dance partner hid his laughter. And suddenly, every camera in the room was on Lola, who stood there in her lacey underwear, the cheekiest of smiles on her face.

 _Jesus Christ and hot damn!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: I'd do it all again**

Bucky felt like an age had passed, and yet, there was Lola, standing in front of him (and all those cameras and everyone else at the damned party, including that goddamned actor who he now despised because of the way he was staring at her), in just her bra and teeny, tiny lace panties. Not that he didn't appreciate the opportunity to see her like that, because, boy, did she look _incredible_. But, it was other interested parties he was concerned about. He definitely was not drunk enough for this.

Lola seemed to notice, because she turned and batted her eyelashes at the actor.

"Can I borrow your jacket?" she asked smoothly, as if she was asking him to pass the salt at the dinner table.

Almost reluctantly, but, with the most smug smile known to mankind, the blue-eyed actor pulled off his tuxedo jacket and handed it to her. Languidly, Lola slipped her arms into the sleeves and lazily buttoned it up, her bra just peeking out from underneath. Still smiling, she picked up the tequila shot she had abandoned earlier and gulped it down.

"I'm going to pop to the ladies' room. Get me another drink?" she cheeked (Chris Pine was all too happy to oblige) before slipping past a dazed Bucky and befuddled Dottie.

Bucky caught himself from falling just in time, as Dottie shoved him out of her way. There was no way she was going to let this one slide!

* * *

Lola sighed at her ruined dress. This was certainly not what she had imagined when Natasha said "show her who's boss" and "show him what he's missing". And dear God, where had she found the nerve to pull a stunt like _that_? She was sure she would have the full force of repercussions to deal with tomorrow… oh wait, she was already trending on Twitter.

 _Damn it._

Lola stared back at her reflection and feeling tears well up in her eyes, she quickly stood up straight and brushed them away before they could ruin the make-up she had spent two hours perfecting.

 _Dot is not ruining my night!_

Fully intending on drinking more tequila and dancing the party away with Chris Pine, Lola headed to the door. Only to have it smashed open by a furious Dottie who came stomping in, her platform heels clacking loudly. Well, her long dress was so tight it was more of an angry waddle than a stomp. There was thunder etched across her face and in her anger, she almost slipped and broke an ankle in those ridiculous heels.

"Who the hell do you think are?!" screeched Dottie, hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?"

"You stole my life, you bitch!"

"I don't have time for this." said Lola, rolling her eyes.

She made to leave but Dottie shoved her back.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere! Not until I'm through with you!" she hissed, taking slow steps towards Lola, who sighed in defeat.

"What do you want, Dot?"

"What do I want? Oh, _now_ you ask me. As if you haven't been inconveniencing me all this time!"

" _Inconveniencing_ you?"

"Have you ever wanted something so badly, you'd do anything to get it? Of course not, because you have everything handed to you on a silver platter. In fact, you have everything I want handed to you!"

"Dot. I'm about to lose my patience. Either tell me what has your princess panties in a twist or leave me the hell alone!"

"How about I give you some advice instead?" said Dottie, in an oddly calm voice.

It made Lola's skin crawl, the way she was smiling like that. It was like standing in front of a viper, who was about to pounce at any second.

"Bucky will never fall for this, you know." continued Dottie, facing the mirror and fluffing her hair. "This show that you're putting on. First that drab newspaper, then your fashion blog, and now, stripping like cheap hooker. He doesn't care. And neither does anyone else."

"Really? It seems like you do."

"Do yourself a favour. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of. I've been by Bucky's side ever since you were outed as a fake journalist. I can assure you, he wants nothing to do with you."

Tears welled up again in Lola's eyes and this time, she couldn't hold them back no matter how desperately she tried. Smirking, Dottie punished her further.

"Who do you think he ran to when he heard? I'm the only one he trusts, you know. He knows it was a mistake to let you into his life. It's always been _me_ , it always will be _me_. Thanks to you, he sees that now."

"Dot- "

"I will always be the one he chooses in the end. Why, we're even planning our future together. He's going to take over Daddy's company when he retires from soccer. By then, The Daily Marvel will be reputable again."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Daddy owns the paper!" cackled Dottie. "How else do you think you got fired? Wow, you really are as stupid as you look aren't you?"

Lola took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks, before looking Dottie dead in the eye.

"I'm through with this. And I'm through with you, Dot." she said flatly. "I don't have the time or the energy to be mad at you, it's _exhausting_ , and the only person it's bringing down is me. I know you don't care and maybe Bucky doesn't care either. If that's the case, then you both deserve each other. I am going to go out there and I'm going to drink and dance with Chris Pine. Hell, I might even go home with him. Come Monday morning, I am going to carry on working my ass off for my blog. Thanks to you, I'm now doing something I really enjoy. So, thank you, Dot. You've changed my life."

Leaving a bewildered Dottie behind, Lola marched out the ladies' room, not noticing a stunned Bucky hiding in the corner. A few minutes passed, before Dottie's heels clacked again. She rounded the corner and barrelled headfirst into Bucky.

"Oh, hello, stud!" said Dottie, disguising the worry in her voice with false cheer. "Don't tell me you're feeling a little frisky. Still a party boy at heart!"

"Yeah, well, we are who we are right?" he smiled painfully, trying to contain his emotions.

He tried not to wretch as she ran her hand down his arm, in an attempt to be seductive.

"You know, I thought 'bout somethin' you said."

"Yeah, stud? What's that?"

"Silly little bitches in my life."

"Oh, stud. Don't let Lola Stark ruin your night. Forget about her."

"Right, bet you'd help with that."

"I will always help with that. Forever and ever."

"That why you got her fired?" asked Bucky, as Dottie pressed kisses to his jaw.

She froze and looked up at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. What lies did she spin this time?"

"Don't bullshit me, Dot." snarled Bucky, trembling with rage as Dottie stepped back. "I heard the whole thing. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _her_! The little Princess gets everything I ever want and I'm supposed to be okay with it?"

"What the hell has she ever done to you? Oh, that's right, she stole your future. Scuse me, the future _we_ were supposed to have together. The one where I take over Daddy's company?"

Dottie ground her teeth together and stomped her foot in anger.

"Well, it's how it should be isn't it? And then that little bitch came along and ruined it all!" she screeched and Bucky stepped back, stunned again.

He had never seen this side to Dottie before and it was a shock. He had always thought he could trust her. That she was the only woman in the world without an ulterior motive when it came to him. He made to retort but Dottie was up in arms.

"We were perfect together! I can't believe you even let yourself get into this situation! Do you know how frustrating it is?"

"Don't bullshit me, Dot. You've ruined my chance with the girl I love!"

" _Love_? You don't _love_ her!"

"The hell I do! And not only did you ruin my relationship, you sabotaged her life!"

"I was doing you a favour!"

"A favour? Well, guess what, sweetheart, I don't ever want a damn thing from you again!"

"You… you don't mean that." stuttered Dottie, her red face turning pale instantly. She had never seen Bucky so mad before, and it scared her.

"I sure as hell do. Get out of my face. Get out of my life. We are _done_." he said shortly, opening the bathroom door. "Oh, and stay the hell away from Lola. Or I'll make your life hell."

* * *

Lola hummed along to the Ed Sheeran song playing in the background. It was Monday morning, and she was fulfilling the promise she had made to Dottie. She had only been there for a few minutes, but she had already drunk half her coffee and planned out a Christmas themed blog post. It was a little unfortunate that the coffee shop had decided to hang up mistletoe, it only succeeded in reminding her how lonely she would be on this festive holiday.

It probably didn't help that the had picked the coffee shop she and Bucky had sat in months ago, before they had gotten together and he had so diligently taught her the offside rule. Sighing, she tried to push the image of him out of her mind.

After the GQ Party (which Lola ended up headlining no thanks to her impromptu outfit change) Natasha had lovingly reminded her that it was Bucky's loss. If he couldn't see past Dottie's schemes, then he didn't deserve someone as wonderful as Lola.

As she gulped down the rest of her coffee before it went lukewarm, a shadow fell across her laptop screen.

"Scuse me ma'am; is this seat taken?" said an all too familiar voice.

 _Deja vu._

Lola looked up, her brown eyes meeting a pair of blue ones. There was certainly an apologetic look in them, but his smile was genuine. Weakly smiling back, she gestured at the seat in front of her.

"Be my guest."

"Now, what's a beautiful girl like you doin' alone in a place like this?" he smiled, knowing exactly the weight his words held. Lola sighed.

"Fella did me wrong."

"You got a lousy taste in men, sweetheart."

"He's a dumbass and never called me back."

"I'll be he had a good reason. And I'll bet he's real sorry."

"Hm, I'll believe him when he shows me how sorry he is."

"He'll grovel at your feet. He'll buy you roses and dinner. Hell, he'll buy you the world if it means gettin' a second chance."

"That does sound tempting. Why doesn't he start by buying me coffee?"

"Flat white with one apology, extra grovelling and hot make-up sex?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: You look as good as the day I met you**

"This coffee only buys you a conversation." explained Lola.

Bucky carefully placed her Flat White down in front of her, and she glanced at it. The milk in her coffee was shaped like a loveheart, and whilst it certainly didn't escape her attention, she breezed over it, quickly taking a sip, scalding her tongue in the process.

 _God, he looks as breathtaking as ever._

That chiseled jaw and those soft-looking lips. One look into his soulful eyes and she knew there and then, there was no easy way out of this. She didn't hate him. She hated how he had ignored her. She hated how he hadn't called back or answered her texts. She hated that he never stood up for her. She hated that he had let Dottie win.

But, she had missed him. Dear God, had she _missed_ him. She had missed his little texts of _good morning, gorgeous_ and _sweet dreams of me, sugar_. She had missed the way he would slide his hand into the back pocket of her jeans in public, making her jump and blush. She had missed the way he would smile when she was talking, making her lose her train of thought every time.

She would give anything to be wrapped in his arms that very second.

"I'm hopin' that's all I need." Bucky said, taking the seat in front of her.

Nerves were tearing his insides apart. It was crazy that this one girl affected him so much. He was wrapped around her little finger and she didn't even know it. She was beautiful, smart as anything and sharp as a whip. He had never thought she would leave such a hole in his life. He knew that it was his fault, and he was desperate to set it right.

"For what?"

"For you to give me a second chance." he answered hopefully.

Lola crossed her arms and leant back in her seat, cocking an eyebrow to show him she was listening. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. She tried to keep her own face blank, void of any emotion, but, she could sense his nerves. A part of her wanted to reach forward and hug him. Despite everything that had happened, she knew deep down that this was no small feat for the him. But, there was another voice in her head, one that refused to succumb so easily.

"I'm sorry." he said in a small voice.

Lola remained silent, waiting for him to continue. She hoped there was more to his apology than just that.

"I screwed up. I screwed up real bad. And I am so sorry, doll, I was a real asshole."

"I thought the worst." she said softly. "I thought you believed that I really did those things."

" I didn't believe that bullshit 'bout you, not for one second." he replied firmly.

"Then why didn't you answer my calls? Or my texts?"

"I wanted to, sugar, I swear I did. But, Pierce. He made me- "

"You ignored me because _Pierce_ told you to?" laughed Lola, feeling hot anger rise up her neck and face. "And you listen to everything he tells you, right?"

"You gotta understand, he was threatenin' my career!"

"And what about _my_ career?" she retorted. "Did you really think I was the sort of person who would lie and scheme to get ahead in the world? After everything, is that really who you thought I was?"

"No, o' course not!" insisted Bucky earnestly. "The whole thing didn't make sense, you know? And then I heard Dot at that party- "

"Let me get this straight," said Lola, her voice quivering with anger. "You're only here, because you overheard me and her?"

"Lola- "

"No, don't you dare defend that! She ruined my career!"

"And she ruined my life!" yelled Bucky, sinking slightly in his seat as a few heads turned in their direction.

Lola pursed her lips, staring at him unwaveringly. She hated to admit it, but, she knew how he must have felt. Being betrayed by someone close was the most horrible feeling. Bucky knotted his fingers in his hair again, before opening his mouth again.

"What she did to you, was really shitty. And I made it clear to her where I stood." he explained quietly. "Don't you think it's killin' me, too? I thought I could trust her, I thought she was the one girl in my life who didn't have some ulterior motive. I feel like an idiot."

Bucky sighed and stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. He lowered his eyes to meet hers, and offered a sad smile.

"I'm sorry." he said simply. "I'm not makin' excuses 'cause you're right. I'm real sorry, sugar. I know you don't owe me a dime, but, could you do me one thing?"

Lola nodded, blinking rapidly to hold back tears.

"Watch the game tonight. And if you want, come by the Arena after."

"What?"

"Just… trust me, okay? Please?"

Bucky leant down, hesitating for a slight moment, before placing a soft, chaste kiss to Lola's cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch, not daring herself to look at him for a second longer for fear that she really would burst into tears. When she finally opened her eyes, he was gone.

Lola wasn't ready to share what had happened with anyone yet, least of all Natasha. She tried to tell herself it was curiosity, when she holed herself up in her bedroom that night, the television switched on to the game. It was a lie. She missed him. Seeing him earlier that day, made her miss him even more. And although it made her heart ache and her stomach flip, she didn't want to do anything besides watch his soccer game.

Bucky looked like a man on a mission. He might have held the position of striker, but, he raced up and down the field, doing everything he possibly could. He slid into tackles, jumped to head the ball away when the opposition tried to score, he raced tirelessly up and down the field, passing the ball and creating as many chances he could. Despite his efforts, the first half ended without any goals. Not that it deterred him at all. He was the last to disappear down the tunnel when the whistle blew, and the first to be back on the pitch, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the rest of the team slowly joined him.

Lola knew that look. It was the kind that made his blue eyes shine brighter than usual; his brows furrowed in determination and the tip of his tongue was just visible, poking out between his lips from the sheer concentration of what he was doing. It was obvious he wanted to win this game; but, that didn't explain why he wanted her to watch it. He wanted to win every game; what about this particular game was so special?

The clock was ticking; Bucky's ninety minutes were almost up and he knew it, too, glancing at the big red timer that was nearing its end. He began running, and Lola sat up a little straighter. He dribbled past one player, then another and Lola's heart thumped emphatically against her ribcage. A defender slid towards him, but, he dodged past him neatly and Lola's hands clenched into fists. He was one-on-one with the goalkeeper and Lola's breath caught in her throat, as he pulled back his foot.

The ball landed neatly in the bottom right of the net, and Lola shoved a fist into her mouth to hold back her scream of joy. Bucky's team swarmed towards him, but, he swatted them away and ran straight for the camera, where he lifted up his jersey. Lola's heart stopped.

Bucky had a t-shirt on underneath. It had a picture of sixteen-year-old him, with platinum blonde hair, next to that god awful photograph of her with those cursed pink braces. And scrawled on haphazardly with a black marker pen that must have been running out, he had written _I love you_.

Lola jumped off her bed, just as Natasha came barrelling through the door, her red curls bouncing and her breath coming out audibly as she looked at her best friend pulling her boots on with a wild look in her eyes.

"You…"

"Yeah."

"Nat…"

"Go with your heart." said Natasha with a smile, patting Lola's cheek.

 _Why is there so much traffic?_

Lola sighed and gripped the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles turned white. In retrospect, she should have taken the subway. In fact, she probably could have sprinted there faster. But, her brain was in overdrive.

 _Does he mean it?_

And God, that photo. She wanted to punch him for showing her pink braces to the whole wide world, but, she had to admit, sixteen-year-old Bucky with platinum blonde hair was so ridiculous it was hilarious. She bit back a smile. He remembered and made good on the promise he had made her back on Thanksgiving. God, that was such a simpler time. Why did things have to get so complicated?

Lola cursed the New York traffic, as she parked several blocks away from the Red Bulls Arena, pushing past the departing fans as she fought her way through them. The players' entrance loomed in front of her, and she stopped in her tracks, legs feeling like wobbly jelly all of a sudden.

"Hey."

Steve was standing by the door, arms crossed and his holdall by his feet. He had an amused smile on his lips, and she approached him wearily.

"Are you the first line of his defence?" she asked, only half-jokily.

"He got himself into this mess. He can get himself out of it." shrugged Steve simply.

Lola studied him, fiddling with the zip on her jacket. Steve studied her for a minute, as they stood in silence.

"Are you going in?"

"Do you think I should?" she asked, eyes pleading for Steve's advice.

"I think you should hear what he has to say." he replied fairly, and she snorted.

"I thought you weren't defending him."

"I'm not." reasoned Steve. "I just happen to know he's better with his feet than with his mouth."

Lola clapped both her hands to her mouth, erupting into a peal of giggles as Steve flushed a violent shade of crimson.

"That's not what I meant!" he cried. "I just meant he's not good with words! Or feelings!"

"It's okay, Steve. You can tell me if you've been with him, I won't get jealous."

"Just for that, I'm glad he showed everyone your pink braces." mumbled Steve, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

Lola giggled to herself as she stepped inside the arena, her boots clacking against the polished floor of the hallway. Apart from the janitor, there was no-one else here, giving the the arena a most eerie feel. She hurried her movements until she was jogging out on the open pitch.

 _Bucky_.

Illuminated by floodlights, Bucky was standing by the goal at the far end, a row of soccer balls laid out on the grass. He stepped back a few metres, before taking a run, and kicking the next ball. It landed in the back of the net with aplomb. His hair was wet, and she approached him quietly, the scent of his damned cologne released a fresh set of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

"If you use the side of your toes, you'll get better aim." she called, stopping a short distance away.

Bucky whipped around, an eyebrow raised amusedly.

"You know that for a fact?" he challenged, blue eyes twinkling.

"I do." she answered. "A soccer player taught me that."

Bucky pondered over her words, before nodding and taking a run at the next ball in the line-up. He hit it with the side of his big toe, just as she had said, and the ball curled neatly into the top right corner of the goal. With a small smile on his face, he turned around to face her.

"You came." he said, the gratitude evident in his voice.

"I did." she said, peering at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm trying to imagine what you look like with platinum blonde hair."

Bucky burst out laughing and swept his hair behind his ears.

"Told ya it was worse than your pink braces."

Lola rolled her eyes and Bucky chuckled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. The tension was almost unbearable, thick and uncomfortable, until Bucky cleared his throat noisily.

"I'm sorry." he said genially, his eyes shining with remorse.

"Me, too."

"For what? You ain't got a thing to be sorry for, doll."

"I do. Earlier today… it's really hypocritical of me to lecture you about the value of my career and then ask you to put yours on the line. I don't expect you to jeopardise your career for me, that's not fair."

"I still shoulda answered your calls." he smiled sadly.

"Yeah, you should have."

"I know sorry ain't enough. It won't change things and I know it don't sound like much, but, Jesus Christ, I am so sorry. I can't even imagine how hard it was for you, and I shoulda- "

"Bucky, I wasn't expecting you to hold a press conference and defend my honour." she interrupted. "All I wanted was you to be on my side. To be _by_ my side, and you weren't there."

"I know, I know." he said miserably. "It kills me, doll, it really does. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but, God, I love you and I'll spend every single damn makin' it up to you, 'cause I'm so sorry."

"I love you, too." she replied softly, and Bucky's eyes widened with hope. "I know you're sorry and I accept your apology."

Bucky held his arms out towards her, but, she took a step back.

"I'm not ready to forget this and get back together with you." she explained gently.

Tears threatened her eyes when she saw Bucky's face drop. He looked like his heart was breaking and she had to fight herself from reaching out to him.

"I want you to make it up to me, and I will let you." she promised, and his eyes grew hopeful again. "But, not yet."

Not daring to open his mouth, Bucky looked at her questioningly.

"I'm putting myself first, Bucky. I know that's selfish, but, I've spent my whole life living in my father's shadow. I've always been his daughter and now, I have a chance to really build a career I love and be known as my own person."

"But, you can still do that." he insisted, but, she shook her head.

"I love you. But, I love me more." she smiled, hoping he would understand. "I want to do this for me. When I broke up with Pietro I said I was going to put my career first, and then I met you. This wonderful, funny, attractive man."

Bucky grinned at her.

"I want to be with you. But, I have to learn that on my own, I'm enough, too. Right now, I just need some space. Can you understand that?"

"You sure this ain't payback for me ignorin' you?" he cheeked, delighting when she giggled.

"After Dot, I think I'm done with the whole revenge thing."

"I love you."

"I know." she winked, spinning on her heel.

Lola had barely made it ten metres when her phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, her eyes narrowed as she hit the green button.

"I just told you I needed space."

"I know, doll." he said, his face all scrunched up and his nose wrinkled.

"What have you done, Bucky Barnes?" she asked suspiciously.

"Did you bump into Steve outside?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I mighta agreed to answer his fan mail for six months if he filled your apartment with the two hundred red roses I bought."

"Bucky!"

"I love you?"

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, readers. It's been a while. This was the final chapter of this story. At first, I wanted to leave it at the previous chapter, and let you all make up your mind about whether she should forgive him or not. But, then I decided to leave it at this. In a way it's still up to you, but, there's still a happy ending if you look hard enough. As much as I love a good happy ending, I wanted this story to end a little differently. Happy endings aren't always a result of a relationship working out perfectly, and that's okay. Sometimes, the most important relationship is the one we have with ourselves, and it's important that we are happy just being in our own company before we let someone else into our lives. Girls, your careers and your lives are valid. No boy is worth giving them up for- not even Bucky Barnes.**

 **Thank you to all of you who have read this story, and and even bigger thanks to those of you who have left reviews. I can't tell you how grateful I am to read your thoughts and see what you make of my writing.**


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